Femme Fatale
by Lapis Love
Summary: Desperation is what fueled the events that unfolded, but it was necessity that was holding everything together. Bonnie Bennett would have gladly sacrificed her life for her friends, too bad she changed her mind, and now its far too late. They were going to burn if that's the last thing she does. Set after 3x15. *ON HIATUS*
1. Part I

**A/N: So I'm starting a new series. I have no idea how long it will be. This is starting at 3x15 but it won't be canon from there to the season finale. Some days I feel my resentment towards the writers of the show have a way of blocking my muse, so I'm using that energy to fuel this story. This will have components of angst, tragedy, dark humor, and maybe a dash of love. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Shameless plug: For those of you following Ensnared I updated it last week. And for those who loved Book Damon/Bonnie I have a one shot titled At Night I Watch You. It's in the crossover section or you can get to it from my profile page. Thanks for the continued support, everyone!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Even if you kill us Esther is still able to channel power from both living _and _dead Bennett's."

Hmm, that provided yet another bump in the road that made Stefan hate this plan with a touch more vehemence. All of a sudden he thought of the one person who willingly laid down his life so that others could be made right with God, and though this situation was far from that moment in time, it still had the same connotation, that one had to die in order for others to live. He willed his face to remain stoic when really he wanted to urge Bonnie to run like hell knowing she wouldn't get far because his brother was standing right outside of the door, listening, waiting for his cue in case Stefan lost his balls along the way.

Stefan Salvatore dropped them the moment he agreed to this stupid plan.

He wanted to unlock his jaws and tell Bonnie how sorry he was that it had to come down to this. He thought he hated himself before but nope, this was taking the cake. Elijah left him and his brother no choice. Well that wasn't completely accurate. He did leave them a choice, either find a way to stop Esther or let Elena die. In order to stop Esther she had to be cut off from channeling power from Bonnie and Abby. The only way to do so was to kill them both, but then, Stefan realized almost at the last second that Bonnie was the only true Bennett between herself and her prodigal son mother since Abby married _into _the Bennett family. All of this added up to…

Bonnie's death.

He took a step forward, not wanting to acknowledge the pleading in her viridian eyes, to make another choice, to find another way. When it boiled down to it, Bonnie didn't want to die just like everyone else. That's why they all went to such great lengths to kill themselves to stay alive. How many of their diabolical plans went haywire because they overlooked a rather obvious variable? How many times had someone had to barter another person's life just to ensure Elena's safety? Stefan loved Elena, would do anything (except this) for Elena. But…and Stefan hated buts for a reason, Elena was no longer explicitly his. She had feelings for his brother though it was like pulling teeth to get her to admit it. But still, he loved her and he didn't want her to die.

Bonnie backed up knowing that trying to run would be pointless. She could do a great deal in terms of protecting herself and the people she loved, but she couldn't outrun a vampire. When the harsh reality of the truth slammed into her that she was about to check out, Bonnie stiffened her spine. She would not act like a coward, because not that long ago she had been willing, ready, and able to die for her best friend.

How soon things change when you find a sliver of happiness in reconnecting with your mother. And Bonnie was slowly but surely putting the Jeremy/Anna deception behind her. She was far from being whole, complete, content. There was still a lot Bonnie wanted to do and accomplish, unfortunately it wouldn't be happening.

Would Stefan even apologize for what he was about to do? From the look in his grayish-green eyes, from his compressed lips, to the ticking in his jaw Bonnie received her answer.

He wasn't going to say a word to her. He was going to kill her mob style and in cold blood.

She swallowed the saliva that pooled in her mouth, and then had a burst of adrenaline. She turned to run, to make one last ditch effort to save her seventeen year old life. Life.

Stefan naturally was in front of her again, blocking the way to freedom, robbing her of her bravery. She licked her lips about to plead again when she saw a pair of arms housed in black leather wrap around her neck and chin.

Twist.

Crack.

Boom.

The house was eerily silent. It didn't even groan. The witches had absolutely nothing to say.

Two brothers stared down at the dead body on the floor, at the curled up bundle. This person, this witch, this girl, this…Bonnie was dead at their feet. Shock didn't go through either one. There was numbness which was to be expected followed by the cold, and then finally ending with acceptance.

Yet Stefan wasn't accepting what he was seeing. He couldn't believe it and he _saw _it and still his eyes and brain were refusing to process what he witnessed his brother do.

If Damon opened up his mouth to say one gotdamn rude thing, Stefan was going to kill him. He _knew _that, could practically taste it. His hands were itching to do some damage—real and permanent and unforgiving.

Damon might not ever be accused of being sensitive to others needs, but in this moment he was reading his brother like it was page 6 of the New York Post. He didn't say a word, but fell to his haunches. He kept his face expressionless. It was for the best. He showed emotion probably at the worst possible times, but he did care in his own unique way. He had to, in this moment, flip his switch because otherwise he would have lost his nerve like Stefan and he wouldn't have gone through with it.

But he stared down at Bonnie who eyes were closed. She looked as if she had fallen asleep, decided to take a nap, but that wasn't reality. Reality was, she was dead, he killed her and the feeling that now everything was right in the world was abnormally and disturbingly absent.

Bonnie was not a friend to him and he hadn't been much of one to her, but there had been a grudging respect between them. She was dependable where others constantly failed him. Yet, he took her life like she was stranger on the street, as if there wasn't some kind of sacredness between them. Damon was a vampire, had been for the last one hundred and forty-five years and killed many, dozens, possibly even hundreds—hell he lost count. Those deaths meant nothing, with the exception of Rose, but what he just did…

Damon didn't want to look at Bonnie, lifeless and on the ground, but he couldn't tear his glacial eyes away. He _had _to remember, to remind himself of the kind of monster love turned him into. No, it wasn't his love for Bonnie, truthfully he could say he didn't love her, not in the traditional sense, but it was rather the love of keeping Elena alive that made him stoop to this level of evil.

And what he did was evil. Of the highest kind. Really, if evil needed a poster child just call him, hit him up on Facebook, send him a tweet. Klaus had _nothing _on him.

Half of Bonnie's face was covered with her long, chocolate wavy hair. Damon made a move to push her locks out of the way, to make her look what? Presentable? Nevertheless it snapped Stefan out of his paralysis.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" he raged and grabbed Damon by the lapels of his jacket and tossed him aside like he was a newspaper. Stefan surprised himself by his reaction of seeing his brother about to inspect his handiwork. His jaw hung open and nearly dragged against the floor. He blinked his eyes several times wanting to clear the dust motes from them, but it wasn't the dust clouding his eyes, but tears. Hot tears that cut worst than fangs.

"I'm so sorry," he said lowly, almost to the point that his words were inaudible. He stumbled around Bonnie's body, not wanting to touch her, to defile her more than she already had been. His shoulder crashed into the doorway. Stefan lost his footing as he tripped up the stairs but then realized it hadn't been a loose floorboard responsible for his clumsiness, but a body.

It was Abby.

He swallowed the bile that was rushing like molten lava up his throat. Stefan could hear her breathing faintly and saw that blood trickled from her forehead, mostly the product of Damon ramming her head into the wall to knock her unconscious.

He laughed bitterly. Why was his brother so sadistic against women? He claimed to love them so much but treated them either like whores or pawns. Yet people kept giving Damon chances to prove them wrong that he still retained some shred of humanity—himself included—but all Damon would resort to doing was showing everyone what a real heartless prick he truly was.

Damon loved Damon, point blank, but even Stefan was beginning to doubt the validity of that statement. If Damon cared about anything, he wouldn't have done half the things he's done. He'd own up to being a horrible person and try to write some of the wrongs he's committed. But no, that would have been too much of a grown up thing for Damon. And everyone knew Damon wasn't a grown up.

Stefan took in a lungful of air the minute he made his way outside. The air tasted bitter and burned his empty, black lungs, but he kept breathing it in. He braced his weight on his knees as he bent over. His eyes were locked on the dirt ground and then it all came up.

Blood. Bile. Johnnie Walker. His soul.

All of it spilled in a disgusting mixture of crimson, yellowish-green, and black goo from his mouth. Stefan spit it out, groaned, and then felt his stomach muscle contract again as he continued with his purging.

Damon joined him a little while later. He kept his eyes off the colorful display on the ground that Stefan created or he would have joined his brother in the race to see who could vomit the most.

"I called Liz…she's coming to get…"

Stefan held up a finger and hacked some more. What he wouldn't kill for a bottle of ice cold water to abolish the brackish taste from his mouth. Though, Stefan doubted anything would remove the taste of ash from his mouth ever again. If that were to be his punishment he felt he was getting off extremely lightly.

"I can't believe you killed her," Stefan said stage-whisper soft.

Damon's eyes widened and then his face tightened with rage. Had he been talking to himself in his car when they flipped a coin to see which stud would do the honor of wasting a perfectly innocent human being from the mutherfucking earth? Oh, his apologies. Maybe he had been sleepwalking again. Silly him.

"Don't you fucking dare pin this on _me, _Stefan. You knew what we had to do. What _you _had to do and should have done. Elijah would have told Rebekah to kill Elena. Is that what you would have preferred? A lifetime with the witch over the girl you love?"

"Oh, so you were doing me a favor?" Stefan mumbled and rose to his full height. He turned to face his brother, that handsome evil man-whore.

"I don't do favors," Damon seethed. "I fuck things up. Hate me all you want, but you would have been in a lot more misery if Elena had been the sacrificial lamb tonight, and don't try to deny it." Damon was now standing in front of his weak brother. "Like I said to you so many months ago, I'll continue to be the bad guy if that ensures Elena's safety. Hate me, love me, or fucking forget me, I'll leave those choices up to you."

Stefan ground the tip of his tongue into his cheek, and looked away. "You want to stand in front of me and act like killing Bonnie for no reason other than to stop a deranged bitch doesn't bother you, doesn't effect you, doesn't make you question if you've finally sold your soul to the devil...drop the act."

"This isn't an act and you can't sell something you never had, Stefan."

"Quit being such an asshole! Elena is _never _and I do mean _never _going to forgive us for this."

Damon shrugged like it was no big deal. If there was one thing he learned about Elena Gilbert was that she could never stay mad or angry at anyone for longer than a minute. Perhaps it all made them weak and susceptible to screwing one another over in the most creative ways because at the end of the day they were all family, and wasn't it some great thinker of the past who said that family is eternal? Damon had nothing but time. Sure it might take fifty years for Elena to forgive and talk to him again, but she would.

Damon held up a finger. "Correction, brother, Elena won't forgive me for this…you on the other hand...her epic love…her OTP…she'll forgive you because she'll know you were torn and wanted to save everyone without having to sacrifice anyone. That's what you do. That's the thing which separates us. Elena makes you weak, crazy, sullen, and excited all at once, that's her specialty. She's big on forgiveness so don't fret too long, she'll be knocking on your door soon enough."

Police sirens were drawing near. They were still about a mile off, but Stefan turned to the noise anyway, anything to distract himself from wanting to rearrange Damon's face and make him look like the Elephant Man.

"And what about you, Damon? How are you going to look yourself in the mirror knowing what you did for a girl that doesn't and will never love you? At least not the way you love her."

Damon's teeth ground on top of one another. "Don't worry about me." Pause. "Tonight wasn't just about saving Elena."

Stefan snapped his head so quickly to face his brother again the move reminded Damon of a snake sensing danger.

And before Stefan could question his brother, they both kind of jumped at the piercing scream that cut through the air.

"Shit, Abby's up and she's discovered the body," Damon mumbled.

Stefan's nostrils flared. "_Bonnie_," he spat contemptuously. "Forgetting her name already so it'll be easier for you to sleep at night?"

Damon's hand balled into a fist and he was ready to throw it but he was listening to what was going on in the house. He could hear Abby pleading with the witches to save Bonnie. She was met with nothing but cold silence. Something akin to heat in the form of a hot poker running through his anus into his intestines sliced Damon and nearly had him whimper. But he held it back, contained it like it was bio-hazard material. He'd heard people scream for their loved ones in the past when he would divide and conquer but this was unbearable.

"It'll serve us right if Abby remembers we were the last ones to be with her and Bonnie."

A smirk overtook Damon's face. "You want to go to prison and be someone's wife?"

"Why should we get away with this, Damon?" the younger Salvatore challenged. "Bonnie wasn't some nameless woman on the street. She was Elena and Caroline's best friend. Emily's descendent. You promised to protect Bonnie and this is how…"

In the next minute Stefan's back was kissing a tree. Shards of tree bark rained down on both Damon and Stefan's heads. "Stop running your mouth gotdamnit," retorted Damon. "I get it. You feel guilty as hell and you want me to cry and ask God to forgive me for what I've done. Let me tell you right now, ain't gonna happen. We need to get out of here. Concentrate on that for the next three minutes."

"You go. I'm staying."

Damon held on to Stefan for a minute longer, staring deep into his brother's eyes, knowing he was being extremely stupid. He really was going to turn himself over although he hadn't been the one to snap…

Damon shut down those thoughts, lowered the portcullis to prevent the enemy from entering his fortress. He released Stefan roughly, spared his brother one final glare before ghosting away.

Stefan remained right there, having decided to take a seat on the dilapidated porch. Police cruisers and an ambulance surrounded the place. Liz was the first one up the steps, her weapon drawn staring at Stefan with suspicion.

"We got a call about Bonnie being injured. Is she inside?"

Stefan could only nod his head. But then added, "Abby is with her."

Liz frowned for a second before she and two of her deputies went inside, flashlights behaving as strobe lights with the paramedics bringing up the rear.

It felt like hours crept by because the sky was turning from black to indigo, and was now faint cobalt. The sun was still a good two hours from rising completely.

Stefan moved from his spot on the porch after having been questioned by the detectives on the scene. He told them that he received a call from a private number telling him to get to this place as fast as he could. When he arrived he discovered Bonnie and Abby. He didn't touch either one of them, but then…made another call to police.

Damon wore his bitch-assness proudly. Stefan hid his well under manners and a soft demeanor. Yet at the end of the day he wasn't truly all that different from his older brother, and the lies he spun tonight to cover up Damon's tracks proved that.

Stefan was still sacrificing justice for Bonnie all so that he wouldn't lose the person he loved.

Right as the first rays of sunlight began to touch the ground, that's when the gurney rolled out with the notorious black body bag strapped down on top. Abby was being assisted out of the house by two police officers. There was a large gauze bandage on her head. So her head injury might have been more serious than it first appeared, and Stefan hadn't hung around her long enough to get a decent look for himself.

When Sheriff Liz Forbes exited the premises she looked as if she aged about twenty years. She spotted Stefan out of the crowd and motioned for him.

He walked with inhuman slowness to Liz who had both hands perched on her utility belt. "How did this happen?" she asked the moment he was near.

Stefan kept silent.

"Abby spun this unbelievable story about Esther…the mother of the Mikaelson's using her and Bonnie to channel energy in order to turn her kids human and then kill them, but she sent them here for protection. After that, Abby can only recall someone coming up from behind and knocking her unconscious and she could only speculate on what happened to Bonnie, thinking she might have fallen down the stairs, but the medical examiner said it was a clean break."

Stefan shuddered knowing Liz had been referring to Bonnie's neck.

"Can you think of anyone outside of the Mikaelson's who would want Bonnie dead?"

Stefan felt like he was going to pass out.

"Stefan you don't look so good."

"I need to go home. I've already told your men all that I know. But if you're looking for a suspect…always start with the Mikaelson's."

Liz nodded and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to see…Bonnie…like that. She was your friend," the sentence came out odd and awkward because Liz knew Stefan was a vampire and had seen and done worst than what had happened to Bonnie.

Stefan felt the tears along with another fresh batch of bile rising up. Someone apologizing to _him _about Bonnie…they should whittle a stake and end him.

He stumbled a bit on his feet but then dug deep for the last bit of energy in his reserves. "How is Abby?"

Liz's chin quivered a bit. Being a mother…she could only imagine what Abby must be going through. Caroline would be around forever. Would outlive her, yet the only time Liz had been mortally afraid she'd lose her little girl was after Tyler—a hybrid—had bitten Caroline on her birthday no less. But Liz did what she had to do in order to save her little girl and that was to turn to the devil and ask him to save her.

No one could call in a favor like that to resurrect Bonnie.

A tear annoyingly fell from Liz's eyes and she quickly swiped it away. Bonnie was an all-around sweet girl who had some pretty heavy duty injustices done to her. She didn't deserve to die in a filthy, condemned mansion. She didn't deserve to die period! But someone decided to make that decision.

"I'm about to head over to the Gilberts…tell everyone at once. Her father…he's been notified and he's on his way back from a business trip. He's going to need all of us to make it through. Does Damon know what happened here tonight?"

Rage filled Stefan's eyes and it made Liz inhale sharply and unconsciously reach for her firearm.

"He…knows…" was all Stefan could say without sounding like an uncivilized beast.

Liz nodded and wondered where this hostility she was reading in Stefan was coming from. She could worry about that later. Right now…she had several more hearts to break and she wasn't looking forward to it.

* * *

She was alive. Elena didn't know how to feel about that. She furiously ran around her room like a hurricane, cleaning her desk although it was already spotless, remaking her bed, although she hadn't slept in it, rearranged the clothes in her closet by style and then by color, and finally decided that designer would make it more practical. She tried to finish up some homework but the words were running together in some foreign language and she stopped.

She had to keep herself busy. If she slowed down she would begin to think, and if she began to think she would figure out what happened tonight, and it would lead her to that place she didn't want to venture to.

Elena found herself stuck staring at her bed where not twenty-four hours ago Bonnie had been sitting on it lotus style, burning sage to try a blocking spell. When she should have been listening and taking notes to remember this stuff for a later date, all Elena had done was go on and on about finding Damon—shirtless—walking a very smug Rebekah Mikaelson to the door. Elena had shown up to make him talk to her since he was hell bent on ignoring her because she foolishly said that Damon loving her was a problem.

Well, catching him screwing the woman who tried to kill her only validated that point. Elena couldn't name the emotions that went through her during that pivotal moment. Anger—sure. Jealously—perhaps. Disappointment—you betcha.

How could she ever settle down with a guy she'd constantly have to watch what she said and did because if she did or said the wrong thing to hurt his feelings he'd act like a spoiled child and cause mayhem, throw a tantrum? Elena was no grown man's babysitter. She didn't have the stomach or the patience for it.

Yet, there were moments where Damon could be sweet, charming, and attentive at least the good kind of attentive. He had been there for her over the summer as they searched for Stefan. Damon had carried her bridal style out of the hospital after Stefan was compelled to attack her, and promised he'd never leave her again. At that time she didn't want to lose Damon because he was her only true tie to Stefan, and with Damon around in a weird way she could be next to Stefan, too.

But there was a negative side to spending so much of her free time with Damon. Elena began to neglect the things that mattered to her and the people who mattered to her. She used to love making dinner with Jeremy and Jenna although Jeremy complained most of the time, but it was the feeling of family and being herself around people who knew all her quirks and shortcomings and still loved her in spite of her deficiencies that she missed. Honestly, she and Jeremy hadn't been a real family since Jenna was killed. Alaric tried to make them feel like a family, but it was never the same. He had his own problems, wallowed in his own misery, and loved the bottle more than anything else, even himself.

Damon had become her support system, something she was sure he never had to be for anyone else. Yes, he made mistakes, horrible unforgivable mistakes, but…Elena acknowledged he wasn't perfect and that she should ease up on trying to make him into something he wasn't.

She expected so much more from him than what she got, but when she needed him the most he always seem to be around.

That's why she was desperate to know how it was she was still alive.

Rebekah had said something's in the old Lockwood cave that Elena wanted to examine, but she couldn't. She dare not go there. She didn't want to find out the kind of person she had turned into because of her dealings with the Salvatore boys.

But Rebekah had said that it was annoying how everyone bent over backwards to save her. It was true, Elena had to admit. All of her friends, her brother, and even Rick would happily trade their life for her, and Elena would do the same only if two individuals or rather _one _individual would let her.

She would never get the chance to prove her heart and loyalty because a certain person was determined to keep her despite the fact he may never be with her in the romantic sense.

But Elena kept her focus on the bed where her best friend had been there telling her about her meeting with Esther and her plans to kill off her children, now that they were all linked. All Elena could think about was saving Elijah because he wasn't a monster like his siblings. None, she meant absolutely none of her friends thought stepping in to at least save Elijah was worth compromising the plan for. She had been the odd man out, and because of her stupid need to have harmony even amongst her enemies she was used as a pawn in a deadly game that could only have one result.

Someone's life for hers.

All night Elena had sent text after text to Stefan, to Damon, to Bonnie, to Alaric to anyone who might have heard something, anyone who might know of the outcome of tonight.

She had heard nothing in reply.

Jeremy tapped on her door. "Sheriff Forbes is downstairs. She said she needs to talk to us."

Elena's heart first plummeted to her feet before taking off like a beaten horse behind her ribcage. The sheriff coming by and not Stefan or Damon or both…

Not a good sign.

Like a marionette, someone else was controlling Elena's movements as she walked down the stairs and entered the living room where surprisingly it was packed with every member aside from two of their clandestine circle.

The middle cushion of the couch had been reserved for her as the Sheriff stood on the opposite side of the coffee table. Elena tried to read her face but couldn't. She was in cop mode and wouldn't be revealing anything until it was time.

Elena sat down between Caroline and Jeremy. Stefan was standing as far away from the group as possible. Alaric held up the opposite wall. Matt was occupying the arm of the sofa next to Caroline.

Where was Bonnie? Where was Damon? Were they together? Would they get here before Sheriff Forbes said what she had to say? Elena wondered.

Liz stared down at her feet, not really knowing where to start. She had notified families of deceased children before and it never got any easier no matter how often she had to do it. So many young lives cut down because of the supernatural that blanketed the town like smog; she could really hate this place sometimes.

"Mom?" Caroline called for her mother's attention, knowing she was stalling.

When Liz looked back up she looked at a point over Caroline's shoulder. "We received a call…approximately around eleven this evening about two women being injured at the old property off Route 17."

Everyone tensed because they knew the sheriff had been referring to the old witch mansion.

Jeremy licked his lips, not liking where this story might be potentially heading. "What happened?"

"When we arrived we found Abby there. She suffered a head injury, but Bonnie…" Liz's voice hitched because the air in her lungs was suddenly choking her. She thought lack of air was the only cause of suffocation, but apparently having too much of it could have the same results. "Bonnie…didn't…Bonnie's injury was more serious. The paramedics did all they could to revive her but it was too late. She didn't make it."

Several pairs of eyes blinked at Sheriff Forbes.

Caroline was the first to break the deafening silence. "Wait…are you trying to say that Bonnie is d-dead?"

Liz could only nod her head not wanting to voice the painful reality of the situation.

Elena smiled all of a sudden—a little madly at that. "No," she vehemently shook her head. "_No_, Bonnie is a powerful witch she can't be dead."

"I'm sorry, Elena," Liz said softly. "The paramedics worked on her for half an hour but they couldn't restart her heart. She was already gone by the time they got-,"

Elena shot up from the couch. "Don't you fucking stand there and tell me my best friend on the whole fucking planet is dead! I don't believe you! She's not dead! She would never die on me! They wouldn't kill her over me."

"Elena…"

"NO!" she looked at Stefan beseechingly as tears poured from her brown eyes. "Tell her, Stefan that she's wrong!"

"I was there…I saw her…"

A flurry of activity happened at once. Jeremy became an Olympic hurdler and jumped over the coffee table and the area rug as he flew at Stefan and began wailing on the vampire.

"It's your fault she's dead!" Jeremy accused and Stefan didn't refute his words. He couldn't. "Every single time she helps you sons of bitches she _always _ends up getting hurt! Why can't you just _die_!"

Matt who had been shocked to paralysis came out of his stupor and tried to control Jeremy who was doing a fairly decent job of making mince meat out of Stefan who stood there, or rather lay rumpled on the floor as Jeremy unloaded his anger, depression, sadness, and fury out on him. Alaric moved to intervene while Caroline and Elena clutched one another before verbally attacking Liz, digging into her ass for more information, more details. No matter what she said or how she said it the fact would remain the same. Bonnie was dead; Elena was alive.

Then someone said something that caused all activity to stop. "Where the _fuck_ is Damon?"

* * *

**The Salvatore Boardinghouse**

This was the ninetieth time he was washing his hands and they still felt dirty. Damon avoided looking at his perfect reflection in the mirror as he wiped the soap and water from his hands with a nice fluffy towel. His day walking ring lied on the sink next to the faucet. Almost forgotten more like an unhelpful reminder that it was due to a witch that he could "pass" for human during daylight. The last time he took it off it was after Tyler Lockwood bit him and he figured he better take himself out before he became a confused, rabid vampire looking to sink his fangs into whatever human happened to be in the area.

Like always his brother AKA Captain Super Save a Hoe came flying out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground, thereby locking him in the basement ordering him to converse his strength.

Who needed strength to die?

The only other time Damon had been parted from his ring was when Stefan took it as some sort of punishment for being a bad vampire.

In his head he could only imagine what could be happening at the Gilbert residence. Next to the boardinghouse it was the place everyone convened. After blocking his number, he called 911, tipped off the police on where to find Bonnie and Abby. Damon figured it was the least he could do instead of just burying Bonnie out in the woods. How he used to dispose of unwanted corpses. He owed her that much respect of getting a proper funeral and subsequent burial after the many times she went against her nature and grain to help him keep Elena alive.

He just destroyed any chance of being with Elena, and surprisingly he was okay with that. Didn't mean he had to accept it though because Damon was living on the hope that Elena would turn to him for comfort even though he was the one responsible for her misery.

Yes, his ass was living in denial big time but he had to because if he focused on what he did tonight, how he executed—pun not intended—the campaign of keeping Elena alive no matter the cost, everything Stefan said to him would penetrate his cold, black heart.

And he'd _feel _it.

Against his will, Damon began to play back the final words Bonnie Bennett spoke to his brother.

"_Even if you kill us Esther is still able to channel power from both living and dead Bennett's."_

That tidbit of information they hadn't known which left one obvious choice, and that was to turn Abby or Bonnie or both of them into vampires. But Damon knew Bonnie. He knew she wouldn't have gone through with the transition. She would prefer to die than to live out the remainder of her days as something she swore to protect the rest of humanity from. He didn't want to see her hate herself. He'd already had enough of the self-loathing from his brother, he couldn't stomach anymore.

Not like he would have had to involve himself in Bonnie's training as a vampire. So Damon thought he would save everyone the grief of having a prolonged goodbye and just snap her neck. Apparently it worked because Esther was cut off—period. It was the Bennett's way of slamming the door to her unlimited access. Bonnie had been the final straw.

He dropped the towel on the pile that was at his feet. Blindly he reached for his ring and slipped it on his left finger and then reached for the crystal tumbler filled with alcohol he couldn't taste.

Damon knew he should have gone over to the Gilberts to show solidarity but he couldn't. Even he knew his being there would have been too much of an insult. And once everyone put the pieces of the puzzle together, it wouldn't have taken long for them to figure out he had done the deed.

Yeah, he would hold off on becoming the hunted for at least a couple more hours.

Damon sauntered out of his bedroom and wasn't surprised to see Stefan there. There was dried blood around his nostrils and tucked in the right corner of his mouth. The pocket of his flannel shirt was ripped, and his hair stuck out wildly around his head.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Jeremy Gilbert is what happened to me. Elena hates your guts and she wants to kill you. Caroline is _going_ to kill you. After she dissects your dick in four parts. I'm not sure what Alaric wants to do, but I'm sure it'll be lovely. And Matt, I think he's going to try to torch our house. And no matter what they all decide to do it won't be enough punishment for what we did to Bonnie."

Damon snorted. "What _I _did to Bonnie. Somehow you keep confusing yourself with me."

"I'm just as responsible. I could have stopped you. I didn't. I stood there and let you…" Stefan gave up, turned around and left the room.

Instead of falling on his bed, Damon stood in front of the fireplace. He wasn't thinking about throwing himself inside. That would do the world a huge favor and like he told his guilt-ridden brother he didn't do anyone any favors. Not even himself. Damon didn't waste a lot of time regretting his actions, only when he actually listened to his conscience which thankfully didn't happen often. He felt nothing when he stood outside of that musty old room and listened to the speed of Bonnie's racing heart. He _couldn't _feel anything.

Those words he said to Elena after the 60's decades dance came flooding back.

If he had to make a choice between the witch and Elena, he'd gladly let the witch die. And Elena's response hadn't been righteous indignation on behalf of her friend. Instead, she looked kind of flattered, or like he passed a test. When she undaggered Elijah Damon got his answer that it had been a test.

He had said the wrong thing.

When would he learn that Elena and her ragamuffin friends were a packaged deal? With one comes all as Emily possessed Bonnie said?

The glint of his ring caught his attention. Damon looked at it, studied the blue of the lapis lazuli, a deep color often associated with nobility. He wasn't feeling very noble right now, hadn't felt noble a day in his entire life to be quite honest. He twisted the silver and blue ring back and forth on his finger wishing for once that he didn't have to be what he was. That was a rare thing for Damon. To actually hate being an undead, reanimated creature who existed on the ecru pages of fantasy novels and on motion picture screens.

He was real. What he felt was visceral at best. Who he was, was still something of a mystery. Most men lived and died by a code. Damon honestly didn't have one. Not one that was set in stone; and that was probably why he behaved the way he did. How one minute he could be composed and actually listen to others opinions, and then sometimes he went off the rails and did whatever he felt compelled to do.

Stefan and everyone else had wasted their time trying to change his ways, to make him apart of something that would take the focus off his own selfish needs and work towards the greater good. Damon hated caring because if he cared that meant he felt, and feelings could lead to regret.

He was a monster, and funny the only person who realized it and never attempted to coddle him was the one person he betrayed in the worst way.

Damon sat his unfinished drink down and just stood there. For hours. Unmoving. Unblinking. Not thinking. Only existing. That hollow feeling inside carved out a nice turret in his belly and in his heart. It bumped into his soul and easily threw it away like garbage.

Villains had so souls.

* * *

**Mystic Falls Hospital Center-Morgue**

Elijah Mikaelson was an enigma. He loved his family. He loved his life and he would do what was necessary to protect both. But here was the conundrum. He loved humanity because he had been human once before it was ruthlessly taken from him and replaced with a monstrosity it had taken him centuries to control. He retained the most humanity out of his siblings, which allowed him to connect with humans who should know better than to entertain something as old and deadly as him.

He honestly liked Elena, could sympathize with her plight in life and did all he could to ensure that she lived. But that all changed the minute she admitted to lying to his face about his mother wanting peace in his family. That wasn't what Esther Mikaelson wanted at all. She wanted to kill him and his wayward siblings who never asked to become vampires in order for her to right the huge wrong she made.

Why must his blood have to pay for what his mother concocted? She went against nature to save her children. Instead she created a bloodline of powerful, supernatural beings who could drain the entire planet dry within a fortnight. Sometimes Elijah questioned if he inherited his cruelty from his mother, father, or from living with Niklaus for centuries.

Perhaps it was a byproduct of all of the above.

Nevertheless, all he wanted was a chance to be with his family. But they were uncontrollable brats who threw tantrums when people failed to play nice with them. Elijah simply couldn't understand why it was so difficult for Kol, Rebekah, and yes Klaus to control themselves? Finn was excluded because he hated being a vampire as much as Esther regretted creating them.

Elijah snorted at the irony of it all. He wanted his family but his family was deadest on destroying it.

And because of his mother's deception, Elijah did something he personally vowed he wouldn't do. He became monstrous in order to retain his immortality. Oh, he could really careless about being immortal. Living for a thousand years many would believe he's cheated the system long enough and should accept his fate. No, it was about the principle of everything.

If Esther hated Niklaus then she should deal with him and leave the rest of them out of their feud. That's what Elijah had beef with.

So he went to Elena knowing she was the weak link the bunch, interrogated her, and then bartered her life against the Bennett witches.

He shouldn't have gone to that extreme as to pit three innocent lives against the Salvatore's already knowing whose life they would chose to save.

Bonnie and Abby went along with Esther's plan because it was their duty to make right, the balance of nature. Elijah's quarrel wasn't with them per se, but because his mother was using their power to funnel her own, he held them just as accountable.

Elijah had been going off the hope that those crafty Salvatore's would find someway (like they always do) to sever Esther's tie to the Bennett's without anyone having to lose their life.

Tragically it did not come to pass.

So here he was, walking down the dimly lit hallway which led to the morgue. It was freezing but that didn't bother Elijah. He hesitated before pushing open one of the double doors of the refrigerated room.

He didn't know what locker Bonnie was in. So he searched the manifest and found her name and the corresponding locker that housed her body.

Elijah made his way over to locker fifteen and opened it.

He reached inside and pulled out the sliding table. He was greeted with a black body bag. Taking a moment to calm his nerves, Elijah then unzipped the bag to about mid-chest. He pulled back the sides as if he was peeling a banana and there she was.

She didn't look dead although her approximate time of death had been estimated around eleven this evening. It was now two in the morning. Her skin still retained a healthy bronze glow. Her lips—which were pale purple—were the only telltale sign that there was no life in her body.

His ultimatum led her to this destination and Elijah would be a true bastard indeed if he didn't feel sorry for his part, his role in leading to Bonnie's demise.

She had been so full of promise but Damon saw it fit to rob her of it. He kind of figured Damon would kill her one day. And Elijah only exacerbated the inevitable.

"You didn't deserve this, Bonnie. I know my words mean nothing to you, but I'm truly sorry…"

"Sir…you can't be in here."

Surprised that a human had managed to sneak up on him, Elijah tried not to jump. He turned to face the morgue technician.

"I just wanted to pay my final respects," Elijah said evenly.

"You can do so at the funeral. I'm going to have to ask you to leave or I'll be forced to call security."

"That won't be necessary," Elijah bit out and zippered the bag. "Goodbye, Bonnie Bennett. I really do hope angels are singing you to sleep."

Chapter end.

**A/N: When I sat and thought back to when Bonnie told Abby that Sheila was dead, Abby didn't react the way a "daughter" would about hearing of her mom's passing. So that led me to believe that Abby married into the Bennett family. Damon/Stefan would have had to kill Bonnie in order to sever Esther's ability to channel power. How I didn't see this when the episode aired…I was too caught up like a majority of us Bamonators on Damon killing Abby and ruining any and all chances of that ship seeing the light of day. There's a lot to say but I'll just let the story speak for itself. This is only the beginning. Let me know what you think. Love you guys!**


	2. Part II

**A/N: Hello everyone. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, to everyone who has read, reviewed, added to your alerts/favorite lists! Just a little warning, this chapter is part depressing, but the characters do face some cold hard facts about some serious stuff. Hope you like.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

It was hard not to blame Elena for this. Jeremy Gilbert knew it wasn't her fault exactly for what happened to Bonnie, however, his gut and his heart was telling him something far different. Elena did not choose to pit herself between two vampire siblings, or maybe she had because after their parents died her life lacked meaning, excitement. She was used to people catering to her every need, bending over backwards to make sure she was comfortable, that she felt safe.

Jeremy remembered when they were younger and Elena would come down with a cold, miss school, his mother had a way of coddling her like she was disabled, and Elena would pretend to be affronted by the treatment, but he knew she was eating it up on the inside.

What child wouldn't? Miranda Gilbert wanted nothing more than to be a mother. She and Grayson Gilbert tried for years to conceive but after constant visits to the fertility clinic, and specialists with nothing to show for it, they were ready to give up. Then one day, their prayers for a child had been answered and Elena was quite literally dropped on their doorstep.

Jeremy followed a year later. Someone told him that most people who had fertility issues and then adopt, within a year something within their bodies clicked and they're able to reproduce. He was the product of his father's loins. There was no denying that, but Elena had been their golden girl, their special delivery from God and there was just no topping that.

All his life he sat back and watched as one person after another placed his sister on a pedestal. It happened with every boy who learned that girls weren't contagious with cooties, and that boobs were actually a good thing. It happened with her friends—how they all held Elena to a higher standard of authority on a broad band of topics. It even happened with him on occasion. She was his older sister but as the "man" Jeremy felt it was his duty to protect her as much as he could.

No, he didn't want to lose Elena. She was all he had left. They might not be biological brother and sister, but they had history, and love, and he wouldn't replace the years they shared. The only thing Jeremy wished he could change was who his sister resembled.

Not even then did he think the circumstances surrounding their lives would have been any different.

Or maybe everything _would _have gone down a much less troubled path.

If Elena wasn't the doppelganger, then everything following that revelation wouldn't have come to pass. Her life wouldn't have been thrown in the balance of upsetting the balance of nature. Caroline wouldn't have been turned into a vampire. Tyler never would have activated his werewolf gene. Jenna wouldn't have been sacrificed. Bonnie wouldn't be…

Jeremy yanked his tie from around his neck. He couldn't do this. His hands began shaking as he thought of the funeral he was trying to get dressed for. The last official funeral he had attended was his parents. The graveyard burial in which Jenna and John were laid to rest didn't really count in his mind. No one outside of the group knew that the earth just lost two people. Jeremy hated the lies and web of deceit he had to participate in to keep people—mainly the police—from learning the truth. His aunt and uncle were gone. John traded his life for Elena and he did so willingly, and yes even Jeremy could admit that his tears in the cemetery weren't explicitly for John. But still, Uncle John had been family and Jeremy had so little of it left.

He should have been a better nephew. He shouldn't have given Jenna such a hard time while he was going through his grief period and went to school high and drunk or not at all. He shouldn't have blown off the countless times Jenna tried to have a heart-to-heart with him to ascertain where he was mentally, physically, and emotionally. When Vickie died, the shattered pieces of his heart had finally been terminated and Jeremy wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get over her death over his own sadness that the people he cared about kept dying on him.

And here he was, standing a bit firmer in who he was as a man, or at the very least trying to find his way, and he was about to go lay his ex-girlfriend to rest.

Jeremy hadn't been fair to Bonnie. He kept the secret of not only being able to see and talk to Anna, but touch her as well from Bonnie. Things with Anna didn't just end. She was murdered by Uncle John. Jeremy loved Anna. She was weird, quirky, and awkward like him. At first their "relationship" had been nothing more than a ploy. She needed something and he had what it was she needed, but then things changed and they started to really care for one another.

Had it really been love or merely a distraction or an infatuation? Jeremy couldn't answer, but once he was able to talk to Anna again, reconnect and remember why he had fallen for her in the first place, he felt a rightness within himself that unfortunately had been missing.

Jeremy wasn't thinking along those lines to trivialize what he shared with Bonnie. Bonnie was the kind of woman who in her own right was unattainable. She was unbelievably strong and infinitely more powerful. She could do things with her mind that could rival Professor Xavier—if he were real—and she could go toe-to-toe with a vampire and not flinch. In many ways he thought his being with Bonnie was a fluke. It was a fairytale. It wasn't real and one day it would end. He'd lose her.

He just never thought his philandering ways would be the reason for the end of their relationship.

It had been Jeremy's biggest fear that Damon might one day open up his big pretty blue eyes and see Bonnie for the badass head witch in charge that she is—was. If Damon went around town acting like the coolest thing walking since Michael Jackson's _Thriller_ album wouldn't he want someone as, if not more badass than him? Bonnie fit the bill.

And that nagging fear that never escaped Jeremy only augmented as he watched from across the gym while Damon and Bonnie danced and plotted. In that moment he felt more than helpless to keep his girlfriend from sacrificing herself in order to save Elena. He felt that Bonnie was beginning to change her opinion about Damon, that she might be drawn to him because they shared the same passion at least when it came to Elena. His sister was the glue that held them together, made them see reason and actually work together instead of against each other.

Yet Jeremy never actually thought Bonnie would come to him one day, call off their relationship, and go riding off into the sunset in Damon's convertible.

Jeremy couldn't escape feeling like a hindrance in his own relationship, that he was holding Bonnie back and limiting her ability to do whatever was necessary to get the job done. Yes, he did some pretty idiotic things in his own poor attempt to show he wasn't just a puny human that he could be of use, that he had some value. Bonnie in the beginning treated him like a kid with special needs, and nope Jeremy hadn't helped his case. But this only caused him to try to think smarter and ahead of the curve.

Unfortunately Damon had been the sharper knife in the drawer in that regard although he had the tendency to act like a two year old.

Jeremy's teeth cinched on top of one another. He did not want to think about that motherfucker, but he had to think about that motherfucker, because that motherfucker was the reason Bonnie was dead.

It had been four days since Sheriff Forbes stood in the Gilbert living room and told everyone Bonnie was dead. She never came out of her mouth to say Bonnie had been killed, but those who were in the know, knew exactly that's how she "died". Her death hadn't been the result of natural causes. She hadn't lost a battle with a debilitating disease. She didn't die in a car accident, or by drowning, or being caught in a burning building.

Bonnie had been murdered! Murdered! Murdered!

Damon should consider himself _very _lucky he was still alive and Jeremy wished he had friends in high places who could take Damon out of the picture for good.

Would killing Damon even the score? Jeremy didn't think so because death would be getting off easy for Damon. Sure it might take away Jeremy's pain momentarily, but at the end of the day he wanted Damon to suffer. Suffer the likes of which his agony over never being picked by Katherine and Elena seem like he had been tickled with a feather.

Other than Elena, the only person Damon loved was Stefan. Getting to Stefan would prove to be a better route to go in hurting Damon. He might act indifferent towards his younger brother, but Damon knew his life would mean absolutely nothing if he didn't have his brother in his life in some capacity. So to eliminate Stefan, oh yeah Damon would feel it even if he pretended as if someone just did him a huge favor. But Damon would burn with loss over Stefan's death.

The bond and love between siblings was sacred and if anyone came and tinkered with it, or abolished it completely, Jeremy didn't care how heartless you were. You would not simply let it slide and go about your business.

Alaric was standing in the doorway examining Jeremy who was simply holding his tie limply in his hand while standing completely still. He could sympathize with Jeremy. Another person he cared about had been ruthlessly taken from him. Poor kid couldn't seem to catch a break.

Bonnie wasn't just an ordinary student to Alaric. Though they spent a great deal of their free time combating evil in the likes of Katherine and then with Klaus and the original family, Alaric honestly never talked to Bonnie about Bonnie. They didn't have those types of moments, and he was a little disappointed in himself because of that. He had tried to offer a modicum of encouragement after her break up with Jeremy but he felt odd and awkward doing so. And she never took him up on his offer to purge if she needed to.

Alaric felt it had all been for the best. He had other things on his mind like making sure Damon kept his dick as far away from Elena as possible knowing the girl still had the hots for his brother. And when he wasn't doing that, he was wiggling his way on the council because they were grossly overlooking the human aspect of everything. Someone needed to stand for humanity and Rick had seen enough and got his neck broken enough to know he was the right representative for the job.

The time for supernatural tyranny needed to end. Vampires only considered themselves superior because they were hard to kill, had super strength, speed, and could use compulsion to get themselves out of sticky situations. They took whatever they wanted, did whatever they wanted, killed whomever they wanted with no regard to consequences because no consequences had been set in place. There were no specially built prisons to hold outlaw vampires. Vervain, wood, fire, and sunlight, were the only defenses against them and in Alaric's humble opinion they simply weren't good enough to straighten them out.

They wrecked lives, killed out of boredom and seldom out of necessity. They were predators but even predators were prey to something.

Alaric vowed to find that something.

He rapped his knuckles on Jeremy's bedroom door to garner his attention. Startled, Jeremy looked at Alaric who was dressed in a dark suit.

"Need some help with your tie?" Alaric offered.

Jeremy looked down at the object in his hand. He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"If you want to talk about Bonnie…you can."

Jeremy shook his head and felt the threat of tears. Last night when he was unable to sleep he got up, sat at his desk, and started writing her a letter. By the time he was done, he had written six pages, front and back getting his feelings out. He had plans to stick it in her casket so she'd have something to read, but Jeremy wasn't even sure if it would be an open casket funeral.

"I lied, Rick. I didn't mean it."

Confused, Alaric's eyebrows drew together as he stepped into the room. "You lied about what?"

When Jeremy looked at Alaric with glassy eyes, he took a massive breath. "After Elena caught me kissing Anna, and I told her that Anna was the only girl I loved…I didn't mean it. I meant that I loved Anna. She was the first girl I loved, but she wasn't the _only _one. I wanted to explain myself but Bonnie wouldn't hear me out and I never got to tell her…"

Jeremy didn't know his cheeks were flooded with tears nor did he know his entire face was red. Alaric could see his pain and misery and drew the man-child in for a hug. Jeremy resisted at first. He knew he had screwed up royally with Bonnie and he thought that maybe one day he could fix things, and they might be able to work their way back together. Now that opportunity had been robbed of him forever. He couldn't stomach the thought of Bonnie going to her death thinking no one loved her. That wasn't true. He loved her and it wasn't until later that he realized he needed to work through his feelings for Anna so that he could love Bonnie the right way—the way she deserved.

Alaric had been there in the old mansion where Bonnie begged the witches to save Jeremy because she loved him. They granted her wish but the consequence for bringing Jeremy back from the dead was he had been given the ability to see and commune with ghosts. And as such, Jeremy foolishly rekindled his romance with Anna thereby leaving Bonnie out in the cold.

Oh, yes bring your ass back from the dead and misguided fool falls in love with dead bitch, Alaric thought. What a lovely way for Jeremy to show his appreciation.

"You can't keep going back in the past, Jeremy. What happened between you and Bonnie…I know it hurts and you didn't mean to hurt her, but you couldn't help the way you felt."

Jeremy ripped away. "Don't try and make excuses for what I did, Rick. That's not what I want. I don't need someone to tell me that it's okay, that Bonnie understands and that she forgives me. I never once told her how I really felt about her. She died in place of Elena, she didn't die _for _Elena. It hadn't been her choice. Not that night. And I never told her that her love mattered to me."

Alaric diplomatically kept his mouth shut.

"I should have told her everyday how much I loved her when we were together; and I never did. Even when I knew if she used too much magic she might die, I couldn't bring myself to do it. And now she's dead. And for what?"

Alaric wasn't going to say "your sister" because that was already implied. "Look, Jer…," before Alaric could continue his cell began ringing. It was Elena calling. "Yeah?" he answered and then nodded to himself. "All right, see you soon."

Jeremy stared at him expectantly.

"She and Caroline are leaving the funeral parlor and they're on their way back to get ready."

Jeremy's face went completely emotionless. He had forgotten that Elena and Caroline had gone to take Bonnie's dress to the funeral home earlier that morning. This was just making everything more real and he didn't want to see Bonnie lying in a box wearing her Sunday's best. The room spun around him and he stumbled his way to his bed where he plopped down on the edge of it.

"Are you okay, Jeremy? Have you eaten anything?"

"I can't remember the last time I ate."

Alaric nodded his head. He wasn't much of a cook but he could cook the basics: scrambled eggs, steak, grilled cheese sandwich.

"I'm heading down to the kitchen. I can whip up something," Alaric offered.

"I'll just take some orange juice. I don't think I can stomach anything solid and I rather it not come back up at the funeral."

Nodding his head in compliance, Alaric left Jeremy sitting on the edge of his bed feeling broken.

* * *

Caroline loved shopping. Drop her in the middle of a mall and she would be the happiest person alive. She loved dresses, and shoes to match dresses, and of course picking out the perfect accessories. However, she didn't like picking out the last and final outfit her best friend would ever wear.

No one should have to do what she was doing. You planned your best friend's birthday party, engagement party, bachelorette party. You didn't plan your best friend's funeral.

Abby Wilson-Bennett had been in no shape to do anything much outside of wail, cry, and throw things. Caroline wouldn't say her reaction to Bonnie's death was over-the-top. It was expected, however, it would be nothing out of the norm if Abby had been apart of Bonnie's life for the last fifteen years. As such, Caroline wished the woman would go sit in a corner somewhere and quietly keep to herself. Like Mr. Bennett. He hadn't mumbled more words than necessary while keeping as far away from his estranged wife as possible.

But Caroline and Elena had spent a good fifteen minutes trying to argue against Abby accompanying them to the funeral home to deliver Bonnie's dress. It was a beautiful Elie Saab periwinkle blue cocktail dress, and cost a fortune to which Caroline made sure the Salvatore's paid for it. But it had been a silent car ride to the only funeral home in town, and an equally silent car ride back. Caroline had driven and didn't even bother to turn on the radio. She was in no mood to be cheery and upbeat because her best friend in the whole world was dead.

Caroline tried so very hard not to give Elena dirty looks, and she might have let one or two cross her face to which Elena did not comment on when she saw them. Caroline understood that Elena was feeling a tremendous amount of guilt. Because here she was, alive with the full activity of her limbs, able to run, jump, and walk on her own. She had life in her body whereas Bonnie did not. Elena was the queen of shouldering responsibility for everything bad to happen to those around her. Unemployment—her bad. That large gaping hole in the ozone layer—she's sorry. The nation's staggering debt—just put it on her tab and she'll pay you back when she's got it.

So Caroline wouldn't enable Elena's guilt by pointing her finger at her and saying all of this was her fault and that she never should have went with Elijah in the first place. Elena knew that, was playing that decision over and over again like a loop in her brain. If she had stayed her ass home, her best friend might still be alive. So they kept their conversations away from assigning blame to planning Bonnie's funeral.

They decided to have it at the gravesite which would make it much easier on everyone. Bonnie would be carried in a glass carriage pulled by four white horses. Her favorite flowers: calla lilies and orchids would decorate the top of her casket as well as other arrangements. Doves would be released as well as white balloons which they would ask everyone to write a special message on them to Bonnie before being sent up into the air. That would take place while her casket was being lowered into the ground. The repast would be held at the Bennett residence.

Event planning was turning out to be Caroline's thing since she was the only half-coherent one out of the bunch to get things done. Elena and Abby threw out their suggestions when needed to which Caroline quickly vetoed. In her personal opinion she knew Bonnie the best because she spent countless hours with her, talking and getting into her head. The things Elena suggested were things Bonnie _used _to love, and when it became crystal clear that Elena didn't know her friend like she used to know her, she cried silently to herself and merely nodded her head when asked her opinion.

Despite her meticulous preparation for Bonnie's funeral, it hadn't actually prepared Caroline to see her body. Bonnie was like her, before she grew more into her witch powers. She used to be upbeat, carefree, but also the sensible one of the group. Caroline had had a front row seat to Bonnie's deterioration from a bubbly firecracker to a cynical, closed off individual who was only interested in the bottom line. She mourned her friend's childhood probably more than Bonnie did.

So seeing Bonnie on that slab waiting to be dressed by the mortician made Caroline lose it. She had held herself together all week, snapping out orders, and keeping the flow going. But all of that composure went out the window the minute she saw Bonnie laying there. The absent rise and fall of her chest, the flat line to her lips, the gray pallor to Bonnie's skin were all telltale signs that she was dead. Her spirit no longer lived inside her body.

Caroline broke down. She was inconsolable.

And in a few short hours she was going to have to drag herself through glass again.

But Caroline pulled herself together enough to give direction to the makeup artist on how Bonnie preferred her makeup. She was an earth tone kind of girl, liked the natural look, but she coveted lip gloss and told the guy to be liberal with it.

During the consultation, Caroline tried not to let her eyes travel below Bonnie's chin, but they did and what she saw made the contents in her stomach swish around.

Her neck reminded her of an old woman's. The skin was no longer taut and tight, but sagged and winkled. No bones had broken the skin which, Caroline could say was a good thing, but her neck looked unnatural though the mortician did what he could to hide the irreversible damage that had been done.

She was going to _kill _Damon.

When Elena finally struck up the courage to look at Bonnie, she ran her eyes over her entire length. Bonnie was so doll-like and appeared as if she were only sleeping. She smiled a little and then fainted.

Abby soon followed suit.

After reviving them both with smelling salt, Caroline watched as the makeup artist made Bonnie look like a movie star. Her long waves had been brushed until a light luster could be seen in her locks. Bronzer had been added to her cheeks and T-zone to bring out the caramel tint to Bonnie's skin. Her lids were dusted with an iridescent silver eyeshadow. Her lips were left natural. The makeup artist had done as Caroline advised by being liberal with the lip gloss. Bonnie's eyelashes were coated with jet black mascara, and whiffs of her favorite perfume had been dabbed behind her ears, not like it would matter, but Caroline had wanted to be thorough.

The dress and silver accents were placed on Bonnie and she looked as if she were about to have a night out on the town. Only that wasn't so.

That had taken place hours ago and now Caroline, dressed in funeral black climbed into the waiting limo. No one said a word to each other. Jeremy was sipping from a can of ginger ale and looked just as pale as Elena who was shredding her Kleenex tissue with her jittery fingers. Abby who was sitting next to her estranged husband stared blankly ahead. Matt and Tyler were sitting beside one another, trying not to breathe too loudly. Alaric had declined to ride in what had been dubbed the official "family" mobile.

The tension ran hirer as they pulled up in front of town hall where Bonnie's glass carriage was waiting for them for the next half of the trip.

Life in Mystic Falls came to a stop. Most of the major stores and boutiques—places that Bonnie frequented often—out of respect closed their doors for the duration of her funeral. It was weird riding through town and seeing people coming to stand on the sidewalk as they stared at the funeral procession going by like it was something they had never seen before.

Probably not considering the glass carriage being pulled by four white horses wasn't something a person saw everyday and not at a typical funeral.

Bonnie wasn't a typical girl and she deserved the same respect as royalty because she had been their queen yet no one took the time out of their busy schedules to acknowledge that.

They had arrived at the cemetary. Once her foot landed on solid ground, Tyler took Caroline by the hand and kissed her knuckles. She smiled out of gratitude and not a moment later released his hand since he was one of the pallbearers. He along with Matt, Jeremy, Alaric, and two former football players filled out the core and they all lifted Bonnie's silver casket out of the carriage and balanced her on their shoulders.

Everyone else followed at a respectable distance. Caroline felt the bubbles of hysteria wanting to overtake her but she suppressed it and held on tightly to both Elena and Abby's hands. It was a good thing she was a vampire and could withstand pain because otherwise their painful grips would have shattered the delicate bones in her hands.

The walk seemed longer to Caroline than it did the day before during the dry run. Yesterday she had overlooked the depressing grandeur that stretched for miles on either side of her. It didn't matter in which direction she looked, Caroline saw nothing but headstones, some of them neglected and forgotten, others pristine and commanding of attention.

When the casket was positioned, the official of the ceremony took his place at the podium, and began with his opening remarks. Everyone took a seat, looked through the program and listened intently as Bonnie's friends one by one rose to say something about her. Elena stuttered and fumbled over her words, but she got out what she had to say. Caroline of course was the most animated and had been successful in rousing a few chuckles from the audience. Matt was the one who made everyone burst into tears. Jeremy was awkward but he kept his eyes planted on the casket because what he had to say was for Bonnie and Bonnie alone.

Abby and Daniel didn't know of the scope of the life of the girl they created, and could do nothing but sit in awed silence at the person they failed to get to know.

It had come to the point in the ceremony for everyone to say their final goodbye. This wasn't normally done at an outside funeral, but Bonnie's casket was opened. A beautiful scarf that matched the color of her dress had been draped around her neck to hide the ugly truth of how Bonnie died. The parents went first. Abby wept and kissed both of Bonnie's cheeks pouring out how much she regretted her decision to not be apart of her life because she was too afraid. They were all hollow reasons, she knew, but she wanted Bonnie to know that leaving her was the biggest mistake of her life.

Daniel Bennett kept his final goodbye to his only child short, sweet, and succinct. He withdrew from his pocket his grandmother's wedding band and slipped it on Bonnie's finger. The plan was to give it to her the night before her wedding. That wouldn't be possible now.

"You are an amazing girl. Don't ever forget that, Bonnie." Caroline kissed her cheek and quickly walked away.

Jeremy took the letter he wrote to her out of his pocket and stuck on the inside of her casket. "I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner."

Very far away on the outskirts of the cemetery two stone-white figures hovered and listened. Damon knew he had no business being here but Stefan managed to guilt trip him enough to at least show up. If he was thinking that he would apologize for what he did—Damon could admit to considering it. But he would not chance getting any closer than he was right now to do so. Several people in attendance wanted him dead. For good reason. He would not make it easy for them to kill him.

Since that night, Stefan looked pained, pinched, and hadn't had a sip of blood. Elena—no matter how many times he called her—she wouldn't talk to him. He wanted to be there for her, for Bonnie, for everyone but he was just as responsible and the guilt he felt was crushing him from the inside out. When he toured the world acting as Klaus' ripper, his henchmen, Stefan did what he had to to prove his loyalty over and over again. Stefan had done horrible, unspeakable acts to perfect strangers, and yes they gave him nightmares. Yet none of it could compare to the horror of what he witnessed four nights ago.

Sparing the man—and he was using that word loosely—a glance, Stefan wished he knew what was going through Damon's head. He hadn't shown a shred of remorse for what he did, but Stefan could tell that his actions were getting to him.

Just like he hadn't had a drop of blood since that night, Damon hadn't had a drop of hard liquor. Typically Damon binged himself on the good stuff when he wanted to drown his pain, cover it up.

Apparently he wasn't as heartless as he was trying to make himself appear. Did he see Bonnie's face every time he closed his eyes? Stefan did. Did he hear her voice in the back of his mind? Stefan did. Did he wish he could have found another way?

Stefan did.

The once bright sky was soon overcast with darkening clouds. The wind picked up in velocity. Caroline had checked the weather reports. It was supposed to be a beautiful day and now it looked as if they were about to be hit with a storm. Her eyes first went to the sky, and then they lowered knowingly at the girl in the coffin. Thunder boomed and lightning raced across the sky. In her own way Bonnie was letting them know she was still with them, perhaps in spirit, but she would be around. A tiny smile kept across Caroline's face, and just as soon as the clouds covered the sun, they departed. The wind died down, and everything went back to normal.

Clumps of dirt and flowers were thrown on top of the silver casket once it was closed and being lowered to the pit waiting below. This was it. She was leaving them forever.

A chorus of "We love you Bonnie!" went up into the air as the doves and balloons were released.

_To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die;…a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;…a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;…a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace... (Ecclesiastes 3__rd__ chapter)_

* * *

Elena's head was pounding by the time the night was over. The Bennett household had been stuffed with wall-to-wall people, and she did her part by acting as co-host and directing people to the bathroom, serving dinner, running errands to and from the store when they ran out of something. She was exhausted both emotionally and physically, but she also felt numb.

Several times she had to stop herself from saying "Oh, I'll go ask Bonnie," when someone asked her if there was anymore of this or that. Her brain didn't want to compute the fact that the reason they were all gathered in the first place was because of Bonnie. It wasn't her birthday they were celebrating but her life.

Caroline had done a wonderful job of planning everything. Elena nor Bonnie's mother or father was in any frame of mind to think outside of the fact that she was dead. Elena felt a little bad for Abby only because she had to keep introducing herself as Bonnie's mom because no one knew who she was. Daniel Bennett handled the loss of his child with grace, which was to be expected, but there were moments where Elena wanted to shake him and say "lose your shit!" But she didn't. He had accepted the lie that Bonnie fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck. He didn't question it although everyone else knew that Bonnie had been murdered.

All because of her.

Anger, real anger swelled inside of Elena. She grabbed her car keys and tore out of the house leaving a perplexed Jeremy behind.

She took the familiar streets to the house that was still technically in her name. Elena sat for a moment contemplating her next move. She stared up at the majestic house yet could see nothing aside from all the people who lost their lives inside those walls. This place wasn't a fairytale born into reality. It was a house of doom. More than half the people who stepped inside and stepped out lost their lives due to the residences of the boardinghouse.

Getting out of her truck, Elena crossed over the brick pathway and entered inside. Neither Salvatore bothered to lock the front door.

She found her target easily. Damon was standing in front the fire, dressed in all black. He didn't move a muscle not even when he caught her scent in the air. He merely said:

"Hello, Elena."

And she said the first thing to pop into her head. "You are a gotdamn killer."

Damon pivoted on his feet to face Elena. She was red-faced. Fat tears clumped her long eyelashes together, and her hair was a wild cloud around her head. As rumpled as she appeared she never looked less than stunning to Damon.

He didn't say anything although he wanted to. He'd let her have her little tantrum if that's what she needed in order to feel good about herself. Damon might have been a burning, sinking ship right about now, but he was determined he wasn't going to go down alone. Elena—in her own roundabout way played a part in her friend's demise, too. She had been the one to get sentimental all of sudden not wanting Elijah to be killed with his siblings. If Elena had listened to Damon when he—for lack of a better word—forbade her from accepting Esther's invitation to the ball, the events which came to pass afterwards would not have gone down. Or, at the very least instead of giving Esther her blood without questioning Mommie Dearest of her intent _beforehand_, Elena still might have her best friend, and Damon would have a half-competent witch he could turn to.

As it stood, they were all up the creek without a paddle.

But he would man-up and take full blame for this. Stefan was already getting on his nerves. Damon didn't want to take his frustrations out on the only other person who showed in her own unique way that she cared about him.

However, he would only allow Elena to take it so far.

"Took you four days to come up with that opening statement didn't it?"

Elena moved almost as fast as a vampire because one minute she was hovering just on the outskirts of the living room, and the next she was standing before him and her hand successfully turned his head to the right.

The sting he felt let him know that she did slap him. What was this, the third time she's hit him, slapped him silly.

"You think this is funny? Did you think I would be pleased that you came up with some ingenious plan to ensure I wouldn't die! You think…I would be happy that my best friend is dead so long as I get to move on with my life? Then let me tell you right now, Damon that you are sorely mistaken."

"Everything I do, I do for you, Elena," Damon replied emotionlessly.

"You're not going use me as an excuse for the despicable things you do, Damon. You made the choice to kill Bonnie. I had no idea what was going on, and if I did know, I would have let Rebekah kill me. Why do we, yes me and you, why do we get so many second chances in life while good people like Bonnie, like Jenna, and countless others don't?"

Damon's eyes narrowed a bit.

"I don't need you to love me. I don't _want _your love. You want to know what Jeremy called me today? He said I was the angel of death and he's right," Elena laughed derisively. "Everyone around me dies while I don't."

"Clever," Damon shrugged. "So wanting to keep you around, I suppose is selfish. All right, fine. But why doesn't your life matter to _you_, Elena? You put yourself in these gotdamn situations where the rest of us have to scramble to get you out of them. Saving your ass is an occupational hazard but I willingly do it. Why? Because I'm too stupid to fall out of love with your dumbass."

Elena's smile was less than friendly.

"Sounds like a personal problem, Damon. But what does your loving me have anything to do with murdering Bonnie? She might not have been a friend of yours, but you knew how much she meant to me."

Damon took a step forward. "Oh, really? When was the last time you hung out where your problems didn't dominate the conversation? Did you happen to forget about the heart-to-heart you stopped to have with Stefan where you told him about our kiss while you saw your bestie get napped by her deadbeat mom and Cousin Skeeter? Where was all that concern over her well-being, her _life _then? Stefan is a vampire, if only he'd act like it. He could have taken care of himself. I don't need a lecture on how important Bonnie was to you because you by your actions proved how expendable she was to you, Elena. Yep that was all you."

Elena gasped.

"You want me to feel bad?" he wiped one of her tears away. "You want me to weep at her gravesite every night asking for forgiveness? Sure, I'll do it _after_ you admit to being a piss poor friend to Bonnie, and not giving a damn about her shit because you couldn't make up your mind on which Salvatore you wanted to lay some pipe."

_Crack! _He got slapped again.

"Fuck you."

"Any time."

Elena whipped on her heels and stormed out of the house. Well, she hadn't accomplished anything that she wanted to accomplish and now felt a thousand times worse.

Slamming the door shut to the truck, Elena sat behind the wheel and cried.

What Damon said…not so much how he said it but what he said…he was right. Elena hadn't been all that great of a friend to Bonnie. No, she had been too caught up on killing Klaus, and rescuing Stefan while battling her feelings—whatever they may have been—for Damon. She never really talked to Bonnie anymore but _at_ her. Treating her no different from how Katherine probably treated her ancestor Emily.

No! No! NO! Their friendship couldn't have been reduced to that, but…

It had.

Elena sat in her car and cried.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Damon might be a bastard, but he's a brutally honest bastard. The funeral scene was not particularly enjoyable to write for obvious reasons. She may be gone but that doesn't mean Bonnie will remain that way. I promise you'll be seeing her soon. Damon told the truth about Elena to her face and shamed the devil while he was doing it. I didn't go too much into Abby and *Daniel* (does anyone know what Bonnie's dad name is—if you do please let me know lol) but I didn't want to go too deep into how they were feeling simply because I don't know them all that well or at all in Mr. Bennett's case. The guilt and the blame will be increasing in the next chapter. Hope you stick around to find out who else has something to say about Bonnie's death. Until next time, love you guise!**


	3. Part III

**A/N: Here is the third installment. I fought with this chapter. I've been fighting with a lot of chapters in my stories lately. I think I'm writing on exhaust fumes right about now. There hasn't been a spoiler about the upcoming season that's gotten me excited. All it's done is fuel my dismay for Bonnie. Thank you to everyone who has shown this story so much love and positive reinforcement. Hope you like. And no, you won't cry. I promise lol.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Seven Weeks Later…**

"You sure you want to do this?" Tyler Lockwood asked the dark-haired boy.

Jeremy, the last living male Gilbert nodded his head.

Tyler brought his obsidian eyes to the golden-haired guy who stood stone-faced. "You sure you want to do this, Matt? There won't be any turning back."

Matt Donovan answered confidentially. "I'm sure."

At the start of his senior year, Matt had requested to be left out of the supernatural crap but the minute he learned that Damon killed one of his best friends, all bets were off. He couldn't sit out on the sidelines and observe things like a spectator. This hadn't been a game he purchased non-refundable tickets to. This was his life. His family. His town. And along with Jeremy and Tyler's help, he was going to take it back.

Bonnie had been his little sister. She had been bubbly, giggly, and his biggest cheerleader on the sidelines although he had been wrapped around Elena's finger and couldn't see past her. No matter what kind of day he had: good, bad, or indifferent, failed a test or passed with flying colors and he shared the news with Bonnie, she always gave him a smile and a hug and told him she had nothing but the utmost faith in him. No one—not even Elena or Caroline when they dated—could make Matt Donovan feel like he was a superhero. Bonnie had been the only one who made him feel like more than the guy with the troubled mom and the out-of-control sister. She saw past that and kept her focus sorely on him.

And because Matt made the choice to stay out of the fray he lost touch with Bonnie. He stopped receiving text messages from her, phone calls just to check in with each other. She was honoring his request to leave him out-of-the-know, and as a result their friendship dwindled until the only times they spoke was if they saw one another in the hall.

Matt thought he would be fine, okay with things, but truthfully all he ended up feeling was alone. He had no one to confide in about his financial problems or just things that bothered him in general. All of his friends had gone through drastic changes and Matt tried to be there in his own way, but the dynamic was off, altered. Everyone was cordial but no one was really entrenched in everyone's life the way they used to be.

But living in Mystic Falls it was not hard to hear about what was happening. Matt listened but he refrained from commenting. He feared that if he opened his mouth he would somehow get sucked into the maelstrom and he'd be wielding a crossbow like Alaric and Jeremy, and honestly Matt wanted no part of that. Indiana Jones he was not. He was fine being human and doing the things he was good at doing. He didn't need more than what he had.

Nevertheless he missed Bonnie. Missed seeing her bright smile and hearing the sound of her calm and steady voice. He missed seeing her attempting to play pool at The Grill. Missed the fact that despite her being supernatural, she still retained her humanity and never placed it on the back burner. Never compromised her beliefs or morals for her own gain. Bonnie was one of his oldest friends and to no longer have her as a staple in his life—he felt as if someone scrapped out his insides with a rusty pair of forceps.

The guys stood apart in a triangle formation with Tyler standing in front of Matt and Jeremy some thirty feet away. He might not have been personally close to Bonnie but Tyler had known her for his entire life. There were so many others who lost their lives before her and honestly Tyler didn't even blink. Not even when some of the victims turned out to be classmates of his. But Bonnie was different. Not because she happened to be a witch or his girlfriend's best friend, but because she had helped the Salvatore's a thousand times over and they didn't even hesitate to kill her. They had proven they were heartless assholes. They had gotten away scotch free of too much shit; and as far as Tyler was concerned, it was time for them to check out.

Permanently.

Elena was pretty enough. She could get herself two new boyfriends in no time flat.

He could never really understand how she could be cool with them. So damn comfortable knowing and sometimes witnessing the horrible things Stefan and Damon did to other people. Tyler was sure there wasn't a girl on the planet that would start to have feelings for a man who used one of her best friends as a sex toy and verbally abused her, and then attempted to kill her other friend right in front of her face. Elena was fucking insane if you wanted his honest opinion. Tyler might have been a douche but he was a douche with principles and morals. You don't hook up with a guy that tried to kill two of your friends or snapped your brother's neck like it was a pencil. Point blank, end of story.

So what Stefan and Damon had movie star good looks. It didn't excuse the bad and sure as hell didn't highlight the good—if any—either one of them did.

There did come a point where you couldn't use love as an excuse.

Tyler didn't know much about witches, only what he picked up on the conversations he overheard Klaus having, and of course what Caroline told him. In short, he knew witches were servants of nature, but they somehow always ended up being indebted to vampires. Bonnie, at one point, had the power to bring a thousand year old vampire to his knees, brought a kid back from the dead, so when he heard that she was dead, Tyler couldn't believe it. Bonnie had only done what she felt was necessary to keep her friends, which was really her family, alive and safe. How could he not respect someone like that? How could he not want retribution for what happened to her?

He and Bonnie had been cordial with one another throughout the years. She was a frequent guest at his house, attended his parties. Bonnie had been that girl you kind of had a crush on but never did anything about it out of fear of rejection. So you maintained your distance and admired her from afar. She had made her mark on this little town and on him—in her own way. He'd miss seeing her around, but that didn't mean he had to say good bye to her memory.

So here Tyler was in the woods about to impart what he learned from Klaus on the most effective ways to kill vampires.

Picking up a crossbow, Tyler held it parallel to his leg. "Damon and Stefan are strong, faster, older. But they also underestimate their enemies…severely. If we're going to do this, we're going to need a solid plan and all the heavy artillery we can find."

"I can get what we need from Alaric," Jeremy said assuredly. For weeks he had been sitting on his hands, thinking of what he could do as retribution for Bonnie. He hadn't done his part in keeping her safe, backing off after she dumped him—for good reason. But just because they were no longer romantically linked to one another didn't mean he should have stopped trying to look after her. Bonnie wouldn't have wanted his help, citing she could take care of herself. Well…that theory had been debunked.

Matt nodded his head. "Are you sure? If he suspects what we're trying to do…don't you think he might try to stop us?"

Jeremy shrugged. It was a risk he was willing to take. "If Alaric had done what he originally sat out to do when he first came here…we wouldn't be having this conversation. He dropped the ball. We all have. It's time to make things right."

Tyler cricked his neck. "Well that settles it. Let's get started."

* * *

Everyone around her was turning into a basic bitch. Elena wouldn't stop crying and Caroline was having a difficult time buying that those tears were for Bonnie alone, and not over the fact she no longer had either Salvatore in her life. Jeremy, Matt, and Tyler were being secretive and she had her hunches about what they were trying to conceal. For now she'd leave them alone. Alaric did what he did best by avoiding crowds and drinking himself into a stupor in the privacy of his apartment or at the Gilberts.

Caroline could really give a damn what Stefan and Damon were up to but if they were smart they should know that their days were numbered.

Caroline tried to carry on with life as normally as possible because she knew that's what Bonnie would want. However, it wasn't without some difficulty. Getting out of bed in the morning was troublesome because Caroline knew she'd go through her entire day without seeing Bonnie or at the very least hearing the sound of her voice. Sure in the past a few days could go by without them crossing paths or speaking, but Caroline always knew that if she needed Bonnie she was only a phone call or text away.

When you're friends with someone for the whole of your life you can start to take them for granted. The only real ugly patch she and Bonnie had gone through was after Caroline was turned into a vampire, and killed someone. Bonnie had been coming into her powers, and was still healing after losing Grams. She was in a sensitive place where she thought cleaning house of all bloodsuckers would somehow add meaning to her grandmother's death. Yet Caroline had found it impossible to explain the rush she got draining the life out of Carter, or sitting Bonnie still long enough to really hash it out and explain what she was going through.

Yet Bonnie, who never wanted to be on the outs with her friends, had patched things up with Caroline in her own way and had stopped treating her like a pariah. It was like their friendship had begun again, was renewed and stronger than ever.

Only it wasn't. Caroline got caught up with Tyler and somehow Klaus. That came out of no freaking where while she tried to knock sense into Elena's head. Bonnie kind of got left by the wayside. It wasn't intentional it was just how a series of events unfolded. But Caroline had made a promise to herself that nothing again would take precedence over her friendships.

She loved Bonnie. Bonnie was her sister. And now Bonnie was dead and for what? So that Elena could live and the dreaded love triangle could continue? That was a shitty reason for someone's life to be taken from them.

Caroline rolled her eyes as she drove down a lonely stretch of road leading her to the last place she should be, but the one place she needed to be.

By this point she was barely tolerating her childhood friend. Since they were little Caroline had engaged in a competition with Elena where unfortunately she was the only participant. Bonnie had been the mediator, keeping the peace and reminding Caroline that she was special in her own right, and that living in Elena's shadow wasn't by happenstance, but by choice.

Of course Caroline hadn't been trying to hear all of that at the time, but she knew that Bonnie was right.

Parking her car, Caroline stared up at the majestic, fully renovated mansion where she danced the night away with her sworn enemy. She could really question the intelligence of that decision, but it was water under the bridge now.

Getting out of her car, Caroline walked over the cobblestone pathway, up the stairs, and rung the door bell.

She cleared her throat and waited. She wasn't sure if anyone was home. Caroline suspected that the original vampire family would cut town the minute Esther's spell to kill them failed epically. But knowing that hard heads made soft bottoms, she figured one or two of them might still be lingering around town.

Hopefully the one she needed was one of the ones who decided to stay.

The large wooden door opened and Caroline was face-to-face with Klaus who didn't hide his surprise in seeing her.

"Caroline? What a lovely surprise," Klaus said cordially, fighting to get over his initial shock.

Caroline, for her part, remained mute. She couldn't and wouldn't return his sentiment. She was here for business not pleasure. "I need to talk to you about something. It'll only take a minute."

Klaus opened the door wider, permitting her entrance. Caroline entered the devil's lair and waited for him to shut the door and then show her to some place private where they could talk. From the deafening silence of the house and from the fact Caroline didn't hear anyone moving around it was safe to say that Klaus was alone.

Klaus led the way to a private study. "May I offer you a drink?"

"I'm not here on a social visit."

A golden eyebrow arched in the air as he raked his dark blue eyes over her. Caroline was coifed to perfection as usual, but her bright eyes were flat now. Hardened.

"Well, all right then," he sat down on the arm of a leather sectional. "First let me offer my condolence for your loss."

To that Caroline rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend to be heartbroken on my behalf because my best friend was killed. It was _your _family that led to her death to begin with. All of this is your fault!" she practically yelled.

Two eyebrows rose and with it his hospitality vanished and was being replaced with cold bitterness. He could understand that Caroline was in mourning and in pain, didn't mean he'd allow her to berate him in his own home.

"I think you have your facts wrong, Caroline. If Elena hadn't been born the doppelganger then none of the tragic events that have transpired would have occurred."

"Look, I didn't come here to assign blame. I need access to sixteenth century torture devices. And because you're the only thousand year old vampire I know who's walking around, I'm sure you have a stockpile somewhere."

Now a pair of eyes merely blinked at Caroline. Blood red lips split apart in an ear-to-ear smile. "You came all this way to proposition me for torture devices from the dark ages?" he chuckled.

Caroline felt her anger swelling like a tsunami like a typhoon. Logically speaking she could have pilfered from Alaric's stock, but she wanted something more sinister. All of Alaric's gadgets and toys were stuff straight out of a James Bond movie. She wanted Stefan and Damon to _feel _it and those living in the sixteenth century had designed masterful ways to torture the human body.

Klaus laughed and rose to his feet. "I'm assuming you need them to extract revenge against the Salvatore's?"

Mum was the word.

"And you expected me to just hand them over, if I have them to begin with, and not ask for anything in return?"

"And did you just assume that I would show up here not expecting you to ask for something? I might still be a novice to this whole vampire lifestyle, but I've been in the game long enough to know that almost everything has a price attached to it."

So, Caroline was not only beautiful but she was smart. And treacherous. Klaus felt his admiration for this girl go up another notch. However, he had always been a firm believer in applying pressure to see how much a person could withstand before they cracked. He wanted something from Caroline all right and if she were really adamant on this quest she was on, then giving into him shouldn't be an issue.

"What are you willing to offer if I fulfill your request?"

Her chin hitched a little higher in the air. "I'm willing to give you one night."

Klaus' eyes stretched and his jaw plopped open but he quickly recovered. He stood before her in the blink of an eye. Hardly any room separated his body from hers. "You're willing to sacrifice your relationship with Tyler to give me one night with you all for a few torture devices?"

Caroline placed her hand on his chest to push him away, establish a neutral zone. "I don't mean one night of seduction, Klaus. But one night where you get to show me the world that you say I could have at my feet. One night to prove that a lifetime with you would be worth throwing my life here away."

He studied her and saw the steel determination in her eyes. She wouldn't be leaving this house until she got her way. Her offer sounded too good to be true because in the past Caroline had come off as a girl with strong scruples. Yet if she was willing to disregard that, who was he not to take her up on what she was presenting?

Pity, though, he was rather fond of Stefan. Caroline could do whatever she wanted with the other Salvatore.

"Do we have a deal or not?" Caroline asked impatiently. "I know you had your summer bromance with Stefan and whatnot, but he made his bed and now he has to lie in it. If you don't want to help me—that's fine as well. You can go back to drawing ponies and talking with your therapist dealing with your mommy and daddy issues. I won't bother you ever again."

"You have a smart mouth, Caroline," Klaus replied flatly.

"So I've been told. Two seconds or the offer is completely off the table and this conversation never happened."

Klaus chortled. Until her arrival on his doorstep Klaus had been contemplating packing up, cutting his losses, and moving on. He was in no danger of being eliminated and his siblings…well they've all abandoned him again scattering themselves around the world.

Approaching her once more, "Torture to a vampire," Klaus made a motion with his head. "It can get rather boring after a while. If its damage you're looking to do, _real_ damage then you'll need a witch."

"A witch?" Caroline said cautiously.

"Yes, and I'm sure once you've shared the story of what happened to Bonnie…ideas will flow like rivers of blood." Klaus' smiled was nothing short of demented. "But I'll leave the choice up to you, love."

Well, she certainly had something to think about it. But Caroline liked the idea of employing a witch. It would bring about some kind of poetic justice.

Decision made, she held out her hand. "Do it. Find me a witch."

Klaus accepted her hand and brought it up to kiss. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

**Carpathian Mountains**

The vodka was strong. It burned going down and if you were a lightweight it burned coming back up. Throwing the shot down the hatch, Katherine Pierce wiped her lips with the back of her hand while the other was occupied in an arm wrestling match that really was one-sided.

Her antics had drawn a significant crowd to watch this seemingly slip of a woman challenge the brawny Alexei who had dislocated many elbows and shoulders in his heyday. Alexei was grunting. Had broken out into a cold sweat that released all the alcohol he had consumed into a potent stench that definitely had flies dropping in mid-flight. His ruddy cheeks jiggled with the exertion he was expelling in trying to slam Katherine's hand into the table.

It went without saying that she hadn't budged an inch.

"Poti faci mai bine decât ca, Alexei!" **(You can do better than that, Alexei)** Katherine sputtered in Romanian. "Pe om," **(Man up)**

Alexei doubled his efforts. Veins erupted and raced across his arm, the back of his hand, and his neck like lines on a road map. Katherine remained immoveable. The crowd jeered and cheered until one voice dissolved into another creating a melting pot of overexcitement and incredulity.

"Bored now," Katherine said and with the simple twitch of her arm, she plowed Alexei's hand into the table nearly splintering it in half.

Arms flew up in the air as cash and coins took flight and decorated the room in a hedonistic celebration.

The tall giant straightened to his full height, glaring death at Katherine who merely pursed her lips and winked at him.

"Maybe with more practice you might be able to beat me, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

"Katerina," Alexei growled and then bent at the waist in a bow. He reached in his pocket extracting the money that he owed her. Money that he lost. Money that was supposed to feed his family this week.

Katherine gifted him with a disinterested look, before collecting her leather jacket and cell phone. She held out her hand waiting to be paid.

Alexei slapped the individual bills into the palm of her hand. The minute his hand was empty and hers was full, Katherine balled the money into a tight fist.

She pivoted in her high heel boots, strutting towards the door. "Sunt sigur că acest lucru nu a fost o placer pentru tine, dar a fost pentru mine. Până data vittoare, Alexei. **(I'm sure this wasn't a pleasure for you, but it was for me. Until next time, Alexei.)**

Leaving the establishment, Katherine slipped on a pair of Aviator shades to block out the sun peering over the mountains. She had been abroad since the night of the failed attempt on Klaus' life. The minute Klaus plunged the white oak stake into Mikael's chest, Katherine knew it was time to get the hell out of dodge. It was a good plan that had huge flaws that none of the acting participants expected. Which none of it really came as a surprise considering that since they were human Stefan and Damon had the tendency to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She would not paint a bigger target on her back and have Klaus combing the earth with a searchlight and a fine tooth comb trying to find her. Nope. She packed her bags and booked. Looking out for herself was her occupation and her number one priority. And as her philosophy stated: it was better they die than her. She might be a bitch but she saw results when she looked out for herself.

If you and another person are running for your lives, always trip the person running beside you. That had been Katherine's way of thinking since the moment she turned. Perhaps even before then when she was still human, still breakable. All her life she had lived outside of the box, never doing what was expected of her, because it stifled her growth, compartmentalized who she was. She had wings damn it, and she needed to spread them. But no her family had had other plans for her that didn't involve self-discovery through pre-martial sex.

She had a baby out of wedlock. So what? That was common place these days. She got involved with the wrong crowd after being disowned. Happened all the time, unfortunately those people just happened to be the oldest vampire family in history. Her mea culpa. However, Katherine made a vow never to be vulnerable, a victim, or a target ever again, and so far she had achieved that somewhat. She would always be on the move, behaving like a ghost. One minute you saw her and the next she was gone.

As such she had been traveling from country to country, keeping her eyes low to the ground, and her ears open for any news about Klaus. Many might think spending your life running was sad and pathetic but to Katherine it's what she had gotten used to. She really wouldn't know what to do if Klaus had somehow been eliminated taking her problems and baggage to his grave. Sitting still was not in her vocabulary and being a nomad had its perks.

Those around her couldn't be used as bargaining chips against her. And she could live life on one big whim if the mood suited her. Naturally it got lonely from time to time. That was to be expected. But show her one person who never felt alone even in a crowded room.

Self-introspection wasn't her thing either, so she stifled those thoughts, climbed on the back of her motorcycle and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed a number and waited. The line finally connected after three rings.

"How are things in your neck of the woods?" she asked while examining her nails. She listened intently as the information was relayed to her. "You'll get your deposit in two weeks," Katherine concluded the conversation and stuck the phone on the inside pocket of her leather jacket.

Putting the helmet on her head, Katherine gunned the engine and sped away to her chateau. So apparently a gauntlet was thrown in Mystic Falls which left several people scattering. Katherine wasn't sold that it was time to return and join the chaos, but she was definitely intrigued to find out how everyone was getting on now that the resident witch was dead. More than likely their heads were buried in the sand with their asses in the air waiting for lightning to strike it.

Of course hearing that bit of news did nothing for Katherine. Her own witch-bitch betrayed her. And the one before that unfortunately had gotten herself lit on fire by a bunch of bigots. It didn't end well for Bennett women; that much was glaringly obvious, but Katherine figured Bonnie might turn out better than her predecessors before her.

Ha! Yeah right. The Bennett's fate seemed to be tied in with the magical white vagina. You roll a dice and that's what you got.

Yet even from this distance Katherine could already sense it, could already smell it. The city was going to burn. The question remained, who would light the match?

* * *

It was late by the time Jeremy waltzed through the door. The house was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the television that was watching the man who was stretched out on the couch—passed out. Flicking on the lights, Jeremy dumped his book bag loudly on the floor. It was enough to snap Alaric to attention who hastily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and the drool off his chin.

"Jeremy," his voice was hoarse to which Alaric cleared it. "You just getting in? What time is it?"

"Almost midnight."

"You do realize you have school in the morning, right?"

Jeremy shrugged and headed to the kitchen. His stomach was empty and had been protesting belligerently the whole way home. Alaric followed.

"I was studying," Jeremy lied and started pulling out items from the fridge to make a sandwich.

Alaric pursed his lips. Jeremy must have forgotten that he was a teenager and broke curfew too because he had been doing stuff he wasn't supposed to be doing. Jeremy had always been something of a loner from what Rick had learned over the past year and half. He was even more of a recluse now. He ate all his meals in his room, came in at odd hours of the day and night, and when he was home, he was engrossed in playing video games, or doing some type of questionable activity behind his closed door. Alaric didn't want to assume anything, but he was a researcher at heart. An observer of people, behaviors, and trends. He could spot deviant behavior from a mile away, and all signs were pointing at Jeremy.

"Whatever you have planned against the Salvatore's I suggest you drop it. You're only going to get yourself killed, Jeremy."

The man-child in question chuckled humorlessly. "This coming from the guy who couldn't kill the vampire responsible for his wife's death even after said vampire admitted that he fucked and killed her because he liked her."

Say what? Alaric was in shock. Pissed. Enraged. Blood rushed to his ears. He pushed away from leaning against the threshold.

The challenge was evident, Jeremy recognized. He couldn't back down now.

"You want to repeat that again? I was willing to overlook your shady behavior and snide remarks because of Bonnie, but you've crossed the line, Jeremy. What is a seventeen year old kid going to do against a pair of centuries old vampires? Not a fucking thing!"

Jeremy held his hands out to his sides, staring at Rick one dose incredulous and the other dose helpless.

"What do you want from me, Rick? You want me to turn the other cheek so Stefan and Damon can slap it, too? You want me to brush what they did under the rug and pretend it never happened?" Jeremy rounded the kitchen island and got in Rick's face. "You're supposed to be the vampire hunter but your ass hasn't hunted or killed a damn thing since Bonnie's death…_before_ then. You want to lecture me? Why don't you turn around and blow all that hot air right out your ass because I'm not interested in hearing anything you have to say. Don't like it," Jeremy pointed at the front door. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Food forgotten, Jeremy left the kitchen, left Alaric feeling like a chastened little boy. Alaric had a mind to go after him and rough him up, but his feet were glued to the floor. Several firsts happened to him tonight. He was cursed out by a seventeen year old and then subsequently thrown out of a house by a seventeen year old. What had become of his life?

Shaking his head, Alaric reached for his cell phone. Jeremy was right. Alaric needed to get back on his game and start being proactive, but if he was going to move forward he'd need help.

"Hey, Connor…it's Alaric. Remember that problem I was telling you about…?"

* * *

**Mystic Falls Cemetery **

Emily Bennett told him that caring too much for others would be his curse. She had been right. Being overly sensitive to others needs had garnered him more lasting friendships than his brother, but it also made him susceptible to being hurt and disappointed. Stefan was his biggest disappointment to himself. He always took pride in doing the right thing, but the one time he dropped the ball…

A young girl paid dearly for it.

He was surprised he had lasted this long without some form of retaliation from the Scooby Doo gang. Oh, he wasn't naïve. He knew they were planning something. What and when were the questions that needed answering. Stefan realized he could have left, fled town weeks ago, but his need for self-punishment wouldn't allow him to run. He would have to face the music as they say, but he wouldn't exactly put up a fight.

As he stood in front of Bonnie's headstone, he thought back to the first time he saw her. She had been standing outside of the front office, waiting for him to turn around to acknowledge her plea for him to be hot. Stefan was used to women casting him second sometimes third and forth looks. It came with the territory of being a vampire. He was a predator so being physically attractive to his prey helped to lure them in. He could recall with absolute clarity the look of shock on her face the minute he turned around. He had bypassed her without a second glance, felt her follow behind him as if in a trance, and then he ran into Elena.

He dropped his eyes to examine the ring on his right hand. It was because of Elena that he decided to move back to Mystic Falls. Sure it had been home long before he met her, but his memories of home weren't all that great. At least not in the latter days of his life. But he had wanted to get to know Elena, somehow fit into her life.

He should have stayed his ass away. Stefan knew that he had no business trying to be in a relationship with her. Where would a bird and fish live if they fell in love? How could a vampire and a human be together if only one of them lived forever?

But he thought back to meeting Bonnie formally. He had been invited to sit with Elena and her friends and was subsequently invited to a party at the bluffs. Bonnie had been the one to try set him and Elena up whereas Caroline had tried to rope him for herself. In such a short amount of time, Stefan was able to ascertain that Bonnie was the kind of friend who would have your back, no matter what. He automatically liked her, and liking people didn't come easy to Stefan. Because of what he was he had to exercise caution in how close he'd allow himself to get to people, and how close they got to him.

After she learned his secret and he learned hers, Stefan had hoped things would be different, that they'd be able to find some middle ground. Bonnie didn't trust him and he respected her boundaries for space, and never pushed for more.

Then a partnership that he liked to think was friendship grew between them. He could turn to her for help and she rarely told him no, in fact she never told him no. He appealed to her big heart and sure it might have been slightly manipulative, but he made sure to thank her at the end. Nevertheless, Bonnie would express her doubt in being able to carry out a spell and Stefan would encourage her to try anyways, always referring to Emily to give Bonnie the boost she needed.

Little by little the friendship began to twist and turn into something else. Bonnie became his go to fix-it girl. He no longer asked her questions about her life, how she was feeling, how she was dealing with everything that was happening with Klaus, the sun and the moon curse, the hybrid situation. He had stopped asking for her help but had begun _telling_ her what to do. He only talked to her when he needed her to perform some magic to save Elena, no longer caring about the personal cost to herself and livelihood.

In short he became his brother, narrow-minded and fixated on his own agenda. He ordered Bonnie and her mother around like they were slaves. He cracked a verbal whip that left scars that was never given time to heal. He neglected her feelings. Treated her like an assembly factory worker, and then he just stood by and watched her die.

Stefan closed his eyes. His dealings with Klaus had completely destroyed who he was. Not only had he used and abused Bonnie, but he almost turned Elena into a vampire against her will. He had become the epitome of an evil bastard.

But he was an evil bastard who still had his life.

"I know I have no right being here," he said, voice cracking.

The tree branches swayed in the air. Dead leaves blew across the manicured lawn.

"I'm part of the reason why you're in this grave. Things…never should have gone that far, Bonnie. Damon and I…we should have tried harder to find another way. I can't ask for your forgiveness because at the end of the day I don't deserve it. I just wanted to…" Stefan kicked a pebble. It flew across the graveyard and landed into someone's headstone leaving a dent behind. "I wish I knew a way to make things right. Bring you back."

The wind stilled. Stefan looked around because he felt a presence barreling down on him. He quickly turned around expecting to see someone standing behind him, but of course no one was standing there. His guilty conscience was stirring up again.

"Wherever you are, Bonnie…I really hope you've found peace." Pause. "Good bye."

Stefan walked away, heading back to his car. Once he reached it, and looked out towards the cemetery one final time he refused to blink. Either his eyes were playing tricks on him or shadowy figures were racing across the cemetery. When he blinked everything was the way it was before, undisturbed.

"The hell?" he said and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Something started whispering in his ear. But he couldn't make out the words.

Stefan spun around; saw nothing but the road and darkness. And then something slammed into him.

Stefan went hurtling into a tree. The impact knocked the wind out of him.

"_Fuck,"_ he moaned and then felt searing hot pain ripple throughout his body.

Looking down, Stefan saw a piece of branch protruding from his chest, narrowly missing his heart. Grabbing the branch, Stefan tried to pull himself free. He was stuck.

He was losing consciousness and fast, but whatever presence he felt earlier, it was approaching once more. Grunting, Stefan tried to fight the darkness that was pulling him under.

Fingers caressed his face. And then…his neck was wickedly twisted to the left.

* * *

Elena woke with a start. Something was wrong. Something was happening. She climbed out of bed prepared to check on Jeremy when a bright light caught her attention. Redirecting her steps to the window, she peered out and noticed that the trees were swaying back and forth as if being shaken like a rattle. Lightning flashed but the sound of thunder was absent.

Goosebumps broke over her skin causing Elena to rub her arms to generate some kind of warmth. She had no idea what was going on. A storm was coming but this felt like something else. Something menacing.

She paraded her way to Jeremy's room, barely knocked on the door before throwing it open. She found her brother asleep with his headphones on. She took them off, grimaced at the heavy metal that was blaring out of them, and shut off his iPod. Just as she reached to turn off the halogen lamp she saw that Jeremy's sketchbook was open.

Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she quickly looked at Jeremy to make sure he was still asleep before thrumming through his book. Page after page she saw nothing but sketch after sketch of Bonnie's face. Some of them captured her smiling or gazing at an object. Before she knew it a smile had graced her face, as tears lined her eyes. Jeremy was a talented artist, and she hoped he would pursue it in college. He was able to catch Bonnie's youth, innocence, but also her strength in these sketches. That emptiness in her chest was expanding more and more as she looked at these drawings.

Soon Elena's smile began to fade when she saw sketches of Bonnie in various stages of post-mortem.

Her heart began pounding.

Jeremy had drawn her body crumpled at the bottom of some stairs, her head an odd angle, her hair covering her face. In another sketch, he had drawn Bonnie with a pair of hands with the notorious Salvatore day walking ring wrapped around her neck. Jeremy had captured the fear Bonnie must have experienced in the moment to perfection, like he was there.

She felt sick.

And the very last sketch Jeremy had drawn had been of Elena standing between the brothers, holding their hands while they stood in front of Bonnie's casket, smiles on their faces.

She dropped the book like it caught on fire. She didn't give a shit about waking him up. Elena wanted to talk to Jeremy now!

She shook him—_hard_.

Jeremy reached for the knife he now slept with under his pillow and held it under the intruder's neck. Elena froze, released her hands from his shoulders, and stood stock-still.

When Jeremy's vision cleared and he saw it was Elena, he held the knife to her throat for a few seconds longer than necessary before artfully spinning it away and tucking it back into its resting place.

"What the hell?" Elena began.

"What are you doing in my room?" Jeremy demanded and looked at the clock, noting the time. "What do you want?"

"Why are you sleeping with a knife under your pillow and where the hell did you learn to use it like that?"

Jeremy ignored her questions and settled back against the pillows on his bed. He closed his eyes. "I'm tired, Elena. You know where the door is. You can see yourself out."

Elena folded her arms. "No, we need to talk." She picked up his sketch book and threw it on his chest. "You want to explain those drawings to me?"

For his part, Jeremy flipped through his book. He already knew which one had Elena up in arms and railing at him at three in the morning.

He snorted. "This is my form of therapy. Not so sorry if it offends you."

"How could you draw me one) smiling at Bonnie's casket and then two) holding hands with Damon and Stefan?"

Jeremy merely blinked at his sister wishing she'd go away and stop acting like a victim. "How fucking stupid are you, Elena? You're the reason why Stefan and Damon go around acting like gods, killing whomever they please if it means you get to live to see another day. Of course you three would smile because once again you avoided death while someone else paid the price."

Elena shook her head and closed her eyes. "I am not some cold bitch everyone is trying to make me out to be!" she railed. "I love Bonnie! She was my friend. I'd as soon hurt myself then…"

"Then what?" Jeremy cut her off. "You'd soon as hurt yourself then allow someone else to hurt her?" he rolled his eyes. "It's a little late in the day to make that proclamation. Your best friend, my ex…she's dead. And there's nothing that can change that."

"Jeremy…I never wanted any of this. Yes, I'll admit I wasn't the friend to Bonnie that I used to be, and it's because of me that's she's dead. I took her for granted because I thought her being a witch meant she couldn't be killed. It was stupid and naïve to think that way, but I did. I miss her _so _much it hurts. I walk around and I see the stares…I know what people are thinking."

"And what are they thinking?"

"They're thinking that everyone close to me has died…because of me, and it's true. I'm the reason why so many people have lost their lives and…there's nothing I can do."

Freaking cry me a river, Jeremy thought but refrained from saying. "Yeah, well you won't have to live with your guilt for long."

Elena sniffled. "What do you mean?"

"I'm tired, Elena."

"What do you mean, Jeremy?" her voice raised an octave.

He sat up in bed. "It means I'm tired and if you don't get out of my room I will have no problem dragging you by the hair and locking you in yours."

Elena was flabbergasted. Jeremy had been mean to her in the past as younger siblings tended to be, but this was the first time that Jeremy reminded her of Damon. Elena swallowed thickly. She couldn't lose her brother, too.

"Jeremy, please…"

He sighed, got up from the bed and took Elena by the arm. She tripped over her own feet while Jeremy strode determinedly through their connecting bathroom. The minute they entered Elena's room, he flung her towards her bed and slammed the door shut.

He loved Elena, didn't want anything else to happen to her, but she was working his fucking nerves. Jeremy flounced on the bed, picked up the sketchbook and stared at Bonnie's face. He traced her bottom lip with his finger making the same silent promise he had been making for weeks. It would all be over. Soon.

**A/N: If you know the stages of grief I'm not following them in any particular order, but it goes without saying that several people are mighty ticked off and mobilization is beginning. I did want to give a little insight into how Bonnie's death affected Matt and Tyler so I hope I did all right with that. As always thanks for your patience while I fought with this chapter and hammered something out. Love you guys. Until next time.**


	4. Part IV

**A/N: Happy Tuesday. To put it simply: for every action there is a corresponding sometimes adverse reaction. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Get inside! Get inside! Get inside, Joey!"

"Mom! What's going on? Why is Oz barking at us, chasing us?"

"I don't know," the hurried mother replied to her son as she attempted to close the door. Tonight Monica McKinley did her routine of getting dinner prepared, checking homework, starting a load of laundry, and reading to her youngest child. But things changed drastically as Monica went outside to feed the family's three year old German shepherd.

All day Oz had been agitated, barking incessantly that her neighbors called and questioned if everything were all right. She assured them that Oz was probably having a negative effect because of the full moon, laughing off his strange behavior as going through his "time of the month" but seeing the way he bared his teeth at her, and nearly took her hand off scared her.

What scared her even more was when her son Joey went outside to keep the dog company thinking he was suffering with separation anxiety. Oz had towered over her son when he stood on his hind legs, testing the strength of the chain that kept him glued to his doghouse.

Monica hadn't meant to panic but it terrified her to see her dog morph before her eyes like some mythical beast, like a hell hound. She called Joey back to the house, which of course he ignored her pleas and kept trying to sooth Oz who simply wasn't having it.

When the first link broke bringing the dog just that closer to biting her son's face off, Monica sprinted to drag Joey back and then, with one powerful jerk, Oz was free and he was chasing them across the yard.

She barely got the door closed before Oz charged it, knocking Monica off balance.

Joey gripped both sides of his head and bounced around on his feet feeling completely helpless. He grabbed a kitchen knife just in the event Oz made his way into the house.

Monica, gritting her teeth, pushed against the door, trying her best to ignore the feral snarls that were ripped from Oz's mouth. It was like he was possessed or something as he constantly threw his weight at the door.

"Oh, my God!" she cried and forced the door close, but Oz managed to work his paw in between the door and the wall. His nails dug into her hand and scratched her, taking skin.

Monica cursed and fell to the floor. She had to resort to using her feet to finally shut the door, and once it was closed, she snapped the dead bolt in place. Gripping her injured hand, on shaky legs, Monica made her way to the kitchen sink, turned the water on full blast and stuck her hand under the faucet. Silently she cursed. More than likely she'd have to get a tetanus shot. She was hoping Oz hadn't been bitten by a raccoon or possum and that he wasn't suffering from rabies.

"Mom," Joey said nervously. Oz had stopped snapping, snarling, and barking. It was now eerily quiet.

"I'm fine, Joey," she said breathlessly. "Go check on your sister."

Joey didn't want to leave his mother alone, certainly not with their dog on the loose and with her hand bleeding. Monica grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped her hand up. Sweat peppered her hairline and she wanted to rest, but she grabbed the cordless to call her husband.

She sat down at the kitchen table and realized that Joey hadn't moved from his spot. "Sweetie, go and do as I…"

Her eyes widened when she realized there was a large, black shadow moving closer to her son. Monica dropped the cordless phone and slowly rose to her feet.

"Joey…come here…"

He was frozen because he felt a malevolent presence behind him. A tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek. "Mom…"

"NO!" Monica screamed before the snarls, snaps, and screams started all over again.

* * *

_Damon Salvatore doesn't do apologies, does he? Damon Salvatore never does anything to help anyone except to save his own ass. People are expendable, disposal like a Kodak camera. _

Damon slowly sat his drink down, his blue-eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

_Damon Salvatore believes that if he does something in the name of love then it is completely justifiable. Well, I have news for you, Damon, no one loves you. Not even your brother. Katherine certainly never loved you, and Elena, _there was brutal laughter _she turned you into a simpering pussy that whines, complains, and throws tantrums. So manly, so masculine. So _hot. The voice in his head mocked.

"Bonnie?" Damon mumbled and rose from the chair that was perched in front of the fireplace. Out of his peripheral vision he saw a shadow emerging. He turned his full attention towards it and only got the faintest appearance of an apparition. It was a person. That was much he could tell, but he couldn't make out the face or the sex.

_Sorry, not her._ _I am a figment of your guilty conscience, Damon. Contrary to popular belief you do have one. It's as brittle as the hair on the back of a wild boar, but its there nonetheless. What are you doing? Feeling sorry for yourself? Do you need me to go fetch you some rope? I don't think a broken neck would do anything for you, though._

"What do you want?"

The apparition began to trail the room. Damon kept his eyes glued on the figure as it appeared and disappeared like mist.

_Isn't it obvious? I'm a spirit that's been manifested by your inability to address the issues in your life and deal with them in a practical manner. I'm that voice that whispers to you to look both ways before you cross the street. I'm the one that yells when danger is near although you ignore my warnings every time. I'm the keeper of your secrets, Damon. The manifestation of your soul. I am the heart that no longer beats in your chest. I am your will. I am your pride. In other words. I. Am. You. _

Damon nodded his head. "It's official. I'm drunk."

That of course was followed up with taunting laughter. _A soul already drowned in sorrows could not possibly achieve drunkenness. The world hates you. Accept your fate and move on._

"Could you be anymore sensitive?" Damon mocked.

_I'm that kick in the ass when you're already down, Damon. I'm merely doing my job. And you make it so easy. I'm never unemployed so thank you. _

He was on some kind of trip that much was obvious. The temperature in the room plummeted. The fire in the hearth threatened to go out. Damon's eyes searched around the room because he felt another presence. He really had no idea what was going on.

"What do you want with me?" Damon figured he'd humor this "spirit" since it was the only thing willing to talk to him at the moment.

_What do all spirits want, Damon? They want to be heard. They want to be listened to. The spirits are angry, Damon. They want blood—lots of it and they're willing to start with yours._

Damon's lip curled. "Well tell them to get in line, and go to hell."

_The line is already wrapped around the building, to be honest. You are quite popular on those who seek retribution against you. Does it never grow old knowing that you can't keep people in your life because you constantly screw them over? You were right, you do fuck things up._

His patience was waning. "Look, I don't have time for this shit."

_What else is there for you to do? Oh, I forget. This town does have an abundant supply of underage girls for you kill—snap their pretty little necks._

"Fuck YOU!"

_Hit a nerve? What about the nerves in Bonnie's neck you popped? What about the cervical bones you twisted and turned into powdered dust? What about those hopes and dreams you crushed? _

Damon grabbed both sides of his head. "I didn't have a choice!"

_Wrong, Damon there's always a choice. You just never pick the right one. Where's Elena? I don't see her fucking standing around telling you it'll always be you. You killed her best friend for nothing. Elena's ass is alive and she wants you and your brother dead. Smart move, Romeo. _

Not having anything else to do, Damon picked up his glass and flung it across the room. It shattered on impact against the wall. "Gotdamnit shut up! You think I wanted to kill Bonnie? You think I wanted to be placed in a position to make that call? I didn't _want_ to do it, but I did it so Stefan wouldn't have to, so Stefan wouldn't hate himself for all eternity."

_Oh, how sweet. Hallmark should make a special greeting card. For brothers who commit murder on behalf of their brothers. I think it'll be a best seller. _

A lamp went by way of the glass and ended up a shattered mess on the floor. That ache which formed in the center of his chest was fanning out now including his small intestines.

_You killed Bonnie without the slightest hesitation. You finished what you started in the woods, outside of Fell's Church a little over a year ago. You loved the rush you got when you cut her life off, stopped her heart from beating. You did the unthinkable and it made you feel invincible. You showed her that you are the superior supernatural being. She was nothing more than a speck of dust underneath your fingernails. You asserted your dominance, Damon and you were brutal and cold about it. You made deadly assassins all over the world proud. _

"That is not true," Damon was near tears right now. He was surprised he was still on his feet as the voice in his head continued its assault on his conscience.

_Just admit it. You would waste this whole town if it meant you could get a single kiss from Elena. You've done everything for her. Lied. Cheated. Stole. Killed. Destroyed. Betrayed. Yet what do you have to show for it? You do not have her love. She does not share your bed. You're no longer on her list of emergency contacts. That bitch hates you Damon. She emasculated you, humiliated you at every given opportunity. She cracked your face, made you think you were important to her, but here's the thing, Elena is selfish just like Katherine. She IS Katherine and that was never going to change. You should wrap your hands around her neck and choke the shit out of her. That's what you should do._

"You're fucking insane!"

_I'm sorry old chap but you're the insane one. You're insane if you thought Elena would ever choose you over Stefan. Stefan with the perfectly styled hair and gentle demeanor. _There was evil laughter again. _Have you seen his abs?_

Damon rolled his eyes. "You want me to admit that I feel bad for what I've done? You want me to say that I wish I could take it all back?"

_You won't which is the sad thing. You ended a martyr's life, Damon. Did you never stop to think that a girl like Bonnie was probably what you needed more than some fantasy you built up in your head? Now that she's dead, well I guess that means you'll never know. _

Damon frowned and looked confused. Where had that come from? "I never looked at Bonnie that way. Why would I?"

_Why wouldn't you? She kept your ass in line and didn't kiss it like you expected everyone else to. You couldn't manipulate her like you could with Elena and her little idiot friend Caroline. You played off their emotions to get them to bend to your will, but Bonnie…she stood up to you, knocked you down. Perhaps she was a threat that needed eliminating because otherwise if she were still around then you'd really know how big of fucking piece of shit you really are. _

Okay this…thing had to go because no one and he meant _no one_ talked to him like this and lived to finish their tirade.

The only problem was…he didn't exactly know how to get rid of it. Knocking himself unconscious would probably do the trick, but Damon had been knocked on his ass enough as far as he was concerned. He would not listen to this "voice", this self-proclaimed guilty conscious of his. Bonnie was dead. There wasn't a damned thing he could do to reverse it.

He did not give a shit. He didn't care. He was a fucking vampire. Vampyre. The legend surrounding his kind was almost as old as the earth. He was strong. Powerful. He could swat a human like a fly and keep on moving. He didn't need to settle down and make roots. He was a constant ball of evolution and just because people were upset with him didn't mean he was puckering up his lips to kiss any ass.

They should do themselves a grand favor and get over it. _Now_, please. Damon would continue to live his life how he saw fit and if anyone had a problem with it, they could get at him, bro. He wasn't exactly hiding.

Except he was.

He had a ring that allowed him to walk in the sun but as of late he had developed a real affinity for the nocturnal lifestyle. He only went out starting from sundown and stayed gone until the first rays of light appeared. Then he would bring his tired and inebriated carcass home, bury himself under the covers and sleep the day away.

Damon had turned over the reins of running the council to someone more qualified. Someone who actually had honor. He couldn't sit there and pretend he was doing everything in his power about the vampire problem. Hell, he _was_ the vampire problem. He couldn't stomach looking at Liz as she continued to search for Bonnie's killer all the while not knowing she conversed with him on a daily basis. He couldn't sit there and listen to Carol Lockwood worry about if her son might be next on some supernatural hit list. It certainly gave Damon ideas, all sorts of bad ideas, but he had already dug himself a crater, why make it any bigger?

Everyday Damon told himself this: You could push it out of your head. Pretend it never happened. Start fresh. Start over, make everything the way it was supposed to be. You don't have to carry the burden with you. It doesn't have to weigh you down like saddle bags on a donkey. You can release it, cut it from your memory, and move on with your life.

Only he couldn't do it.

Damon tried. Over and over again he tried to exorcize that feeling that got lodged in chest making it nearly impossible to move forward, only because he was too busy looking back.

_You have nothing to say for yourself, do you, Damon? _

"I have plenty to say but it won't change the outcome of the circumstances. Elena lives and that's all that matters."

_Yeah, keep telling yourself that. But I have another important question for you…where's your brother?_

Now that Damon thought about it, Stefan had been gone. For a few days which would be nothing unusual since for weeks he had done nothing but mope around and Damon needed a vacation from seeing his brother's agony.

However, it didn't explain why the "voice" would want to know Stefan's whereabouts. Did the two of them share the same consciousness? Damon highly doubted that. Stefan was the kind of vampire who clung to his humanity because of the shit and lives he ruined in his past. Damon played hide-and-go seek with his, and it was the way he preferred it.

_Every bad thing you do comes looking for you. Eventually. Every heart you've broken, every soul you've ripped apart, it's been building, mobilizing into an unstoppable monster that has one name, and one name alone on its revenge list. Wanna take a guess what that name is?_

He didn't. Because Damon already knew. He swallowed—hard. "Is…is Bonnie here? Is she in this room right now?"

The fire in the hearth went completely out, plunging the room in darkness. It took a millisecond for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and he felt something cold lick against the back of his neck. Damon was proud of himself. He didn't jump out of his skin at the contact.

Lightning zigzagged across the dark sky, lighting up the backyard as if it were Fourth of July. Thunder boomed and actually shook the foundation of the house.

However, it was the shadow of a figure moving, stretching across the hardwood floor that nearly had Damon swallow his tongue. He turned to run, but then was struck from the back and went crashing out into the hall. The wind rushed out of him the minute he landed on his belly. He slowly turned over on his back, and watched as the light fixtures on the walls began to explode, one by one, allowing the darkness to inch closer to him. He couldn't really be sure, but he was sure there _was_ something in the shadows, using the darkness to travel and conceal its presence. Fear grew deep in his belly and fanned out until it had him completely paralyzed like a good neurotoxin.

The lights had gone out leaving him at the mercy of whatever was in his family home. Damon's eyes stretched trying furtively to make out any sign or shape of the presence he felt hovering over him.

Something was bearing down on him. He could feel it, but he couldn't see it. Damon hated being at a disadvantage, and he cried out when something… fingernails scratched his arm.

"Fuck!"

Another slice, this time to his right arm.

He was grabbed by the hair on the crown of his head, his neck arched back, exposing his Adam's apple that bobbed. Now probably would have been a good time to beg for mercy, but what would be the point?

When something was out to kill you, hearing half-ass apologies and pleas was the last thing it/they wanted to hear.

His head was being twisted, slowly, in increments until he heard the first snap of his cervical bone. _So this is what having your neck snapped feels like_, Damon thought blandly. The pain was excruciating considering this was being done methodically so he felt every little nerve being severed, pulled apart like a chicken bone.

Another snap.

He lost feeling in his limbs.

Another snap and this time he could rest his chin on the back of his shoulder. It was amazing he was still conscious by this point.

One more snap.

The doorbell tolled.

The presence vanished, dumping Damon's body where it was. He couldn't move to answer the door, clearly, so whoever it was let themselves in. He didn't care who it was. He just wanted to go to sleep and if he were lucky, never wake up again.

Unfortunately his eyes did open and when they did he first thing he noticed other than the stiffness to his neck, was the fact his house had full power. The second thing he became aware of was the fact he was resting on a couch in the living room. And the last and final thing Damon noticed was the fact he was not alone.

A familiar pair of eyes came into his view.

"Missed me?"

* * *

Her mom must have turned up the heat again. Caroline was sweltering. She kicked her covers away, flopped on her back, and then her eyes opened. She hadn't been able to get to sleep at all. She leaned up a little in bed to check the time.

Ever since Caroline made that deal with Klaus, she second and third-guessed her decision. Acting rashly was something she tried very hard to abstain from, but right now, all that mattered was getting back at Damon and Stefan. By any means necessary. Caroline wasn't sure who Klaus might ask, force, or bribe to do her bidding, but in the end Caroline felt kind of responsible for whatever might happen to the witch or warlock Klaus brought in to take care of her Stefan/Damon problem. Bonnie wouldn't like it very much if the witch or warlock ended up paying with his or her life in Caroline's quest to seek justice for her. And that was something Caroline knew she wouldn't be able to live with if everything was shot straight to hell.

Sighing, she folded her arms over her chest wishing she had someone to go to for guidance. In the past, whenever she was feeling uncertain about something she would turn to Stefan. That was no longer an option. Stefan was now an enemy and no matter how many times he apologized it wouldn't fix what he allowed to happen.

Caroline and everyone else had a lot of unanswered questions about that night. Stefan only said that Elijah told him and Damon to find someway to stop Esther, if not, Rebekah was going to kill Elena. Since Esther had been drawing her power from the Bennett's Bonnie and Abby included, it made logical sense, to the brother's at least, that either one or both of them had to die.

Damon had been the one to make the killing blow. Yet Caroline suspected there was more to the story. There always was when it involved the Salvatore's.

Who made the decision to do the killing? Was it Stefan? Did Damon volunteer? Did they have any proof that their watered down plan would work? Were they so heartless and cruel to kill a girl who had helped saves their ungrateful asses so many times in the past without blinking an eye? Did they even have remorse? Did they really think no one would mind and would be pleased with the decision they made without consulting anyone? Not even Abby or Bonnie?

Caroline punched her pillow with her elbow. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Damon since the ball. If she had known that in less than forty-eight hours her best friend would be dead at his hands, she would have put a stake through his gotdamn heart.

Tears lined the bottom of her eyes. She missed Bonnie. No, killing the Salvatore's wouldn't bring her back but…and it was the "but" was killing her, murdering her from the inside out. Once they were dead, then what? She'd finish out her senior year, graduate with honors, and move on to college?

Without Bonnie. Seemed almost blasphemous if you asked her.

"Caroline?"

The vampire in question, wiped at her eyes, stilled, and then looked to her immediate left. When she saw who it was, Caroline scrambled to a sitting position and reached to turn on her lamp, but the minute she did, the bulb blew.

"B-Bonnie?"

The green-eyed girl smiled and cocked her head to the smile. "Hi, Caroline."

"Ohmigod!" Caroline squealed and lunged for Bonnie but then found herself unable to move. "W-what…what's going on? Why can't I move? Bonnie?"

"I need you to listen to me, Caroline. Don't do it."

Clearly flustered because her brain was being uploaded with too much information, Caroline was struggling with breaking whatever barrier she being barred in, struggling to process the fact that Bonnie was sitting next to her on her bed, talking to her, telling her something.

"Bonnie…_please! _I need to touch you…I need to know that you're real and that I'm not dreaming."

"I don't have much time. Don't do it, Caroline. Don't get involved."

Caroline shook her head. "He _killed _you Bonnie. Like you were _nothing_. I can't let him getaway with that."

Bonnie was quiet for a minute. "Everything will be taken care of. Just…stay…out of it."

"Bonnie, why?"

"Do this for me. Please? Everything is under control."

"How can you say that? Nothing is in control! Nothing has been in control since the night you were killed! We're all falling apart. Things are bad, Bonnie."

There was nothing but silence from Bonnie.

"We need you to come back. I _need _you to come back," Caroline cried, tears flowing and landing on her sheets.

Bonnie stared at her friend. "Call off the deal you made with Klaus."

Caroline shook her head. "It's too late. He's already found someone."

"Then you leave me no choice."

That chilled Caroline to the bones. She blinked back her fresh batch of tears and quickly sobered, no longer acting off emotion. "What are you going to do?"

Bonnie was fading. "What I was born to do."

"Bonnie," Caroline was attempting to reach out while becoming hysterical again. "Bonnie, don't go."

"I love you, Caroline."

Caroline could hardly see Bonnie. "Don't!"

And when she blinked Bonnie was gone.

Caroline's eyes snapped open. Sunlight poured into her room. Her arm instinctively reached out to the left side of her and she felt nothing but cold sheets under her touch. Had all of that been a dream or had it really happened? Did Bonnie really "appear" to talk her out of her deal with Klaus or was that merely her overactive imagination getting the best of her? Caroline didn't know, but she knew she couldn't loiter in bed wondering and guessing.

She got up, headed straight for the bathroom. She wanted to call Elena and tell her what happened, but then she checked. What would telling Elena do? Nothing, Caroline decided. She had school but she could skip first period and head over to Klaus' instead. Tyler would question her whereabouts, and she'd tell him the truth. After the rough start they had to their relationship in keeping damning secrets from one another, they made a promise to always be upfront and honest. So he knew about the deal she made with Klaus. He didn't like it, and Caroline reassured Tyler that she really had no plans to uphold her end of the bargain. Klaus could buy her the entire continent of Asia. It wouldn't be enough to make her stop loving Tyler or leave her home and family behind.

Stepping in the shower, Caroline quickly lathered up and was back out in less than two minutes. Bonnie had come to see her. Even in death Bonnie was still doing what she could to protect her. Caroline would repay the favor she just had to hurry.

* * *

Realizing that Katherine was looming over him, in one minute he was lying supine on the couch, the next his hand was wrapped tightly around her neck with her smacked against the floor.

"All of my problems are because of you. If I never met you, laid eyes on you, never fell in love with your crazy ass I wouldn't be the messed up, homicidal dick I am today."

Katherine smirked. "There you go again. Always whining and complaining. You're worst than a chick on her menstrual cycle."

Damon lifted Katherine off the floor before slamming her down again. Her head butted violently against it.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" she taunted and unfazed. "My turn."

Katherine wrenched her foot between their bodies and with the simple twitch of her muscle, she sent Damon spiraling towards the ceiling, creating a dent before falling back down. Katherine quickly rolled out of the way so he wouldn't land on top of her.

Groaning and wincing, Damon coughed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Resting on her elbow, Katherine drew designs on the floor with her index finger. "I heard what's been going on since I left. I figured you could use a friend."

"Hmm, you didn't come here to gloat?" Damon asked and slowly rose to his feet. Once standing he arched his back, popping his spine back into alignment.

"I'm here to do that, too," she smiled like the cat that ate the canary and the fish. Katherine got to her feet as well, studied Damon. "I bought something for you."

Damon didn't look impressed or surprised. "Whatever it is…I don't want it."

She ignored his protestations, grabbed her distressed leather satchel and retrieved a bottle of Russo-Baltique.

Damon's eyes widened considerably when the bottle was revealed. His jaw dropped and he drooled a little bit before his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How the hell could you afford that? Russo-Baltique costs $1.3 million dollars…per bottle."

Katherine's smile was less than innocent. "Powerful ways of persuasion, baby. I thought you would have learned that by now. With this face, and this body, who can deny me anything?" she grinned and held the bottle out to him.

As if being lured by a siren's call, Damon was standing in front of Katherine with his gaze locked on that smuggled treasure. "Why would you do this for me, Katherine? You know I hate you."

Her fingertips danced over his cheek, but Damon barely felt her touch. "We were close once…and other than blood, alcohol is what you love. Sit down. I'll pour."

Following instructions wasn't Damon's strong suit but he made an exception. As much as he may not want to admit it, but Katherine's arrival had been right on time. He could have died tonight, or at the very least been in extreme pain until someone found him and put him out of his misery. Unfortunately no one stopped by the boardinghouse anymore. Stefan was missing or had either runaway, so Damon quite literally could have lain there on the ground, rotting for all eternity and no one would be the wiser.

He thought dying alone had its perks. No one could see you at your weakest, but in reality it was just plain sad.

Taking a seat on the couch, Damon kept his eyes focused on Katherine. She was right. Her body and face could get her just about anything on the planet. What he felt for her now was nothing more than the irritating familiarity associated with one's ex. He could be cordial with her, but nothing more. Their time had passed since she proved to be nothing but a self-serving, egotistical whore.

She handed him a glass tumbler filled with only a sliver of vodka. Katherine curled up on the couch, tucking her legs under her. Damon was unable to keep his eyes off her because something about her being here felt too convenient for his blood but startlingly it felt right as well. If his life was about to come to a tragic end, it would make sense for his maker to be around to witness it.

"You're not going to drink?" he asked when he noticed that her hands were empty.

Katherine shook her head. "The bottle is for you. But," and she pressed her fingers against the column of his neck and pulled his collar down, "I have grown an affinity for another type of libation."

Damon held the glass up to his lips which were slightly curling. "Are you trying to seduce me, Katherine? If you want to fuck that's all you have to say."

Katherine rolled her eyes before standing to her feet. "As appealing as that sounds…unfortunately I don't fuck losers."

Damon had been in the process of throwing his drink back when Katherine made that proclamation. He ignored the smooth taste of the vodka as it traveled down his throat. He squeezed the crystal tumbler until it exploded. She always knew the right things to say to put him in the mood.

Katherine recognized the challenge in Damon's eyes and didn't move a muscle as he got to his feet. He cleared the space that separated them as she waited for his next move.

"Careful, Kat…I'm a changed man these last few weeks. I have no qualms snapping necks or haven't you heard?"

"Oh, I heard. Killing a Bennett you must feel so proud of yourself. I'm surprised you're still alive, though. I figured Emily would have applied some nasty consequence to you for backing out on your end of the deal to protect her family."

Damon snorted. "Emily doesn't get a fucking say in what I fucking do anymore. She and her little grand-witch are happy now in whatever circle of hell they're cackling in."

Katherine arched an eyebrow in the air. Something glinted in her eye that Damon couldn't name, but she took a giant step backwards and folded her arms over her chest.

Damon eyed her speculatively. "What?" he barked.

"I'm getting out of dodge for when Emily sends down a lightning bolt to char your stupid ass. Emily and Bonnie were some of the good ones, and you screwed up big time, Damon. You killed Bonnie and what do you have to show for it?" Katherine began to walk in a circle. "This nice big house? No. That fancy vintage car? No. Elena?"

At the mention of Elena's name, Damon's temples began to pound.

Katherine tapped her chin with a finger. "Oh, wait. You don't have her either. You are so sad and pathetic, Damon that I can't even feel sorry for you. Elena was never going to love you. She was never going to shiver when you touched her. She was never going to kiss you and not think about Stefan. She would only compare you two, over and over until she drove the both of you crazy."

"You don't know anything about me and Elena," Damon spoke through clenched teeth.

"Oh really?" she stood less than an inch away from him. "I think I'm an expert on the subject, wouldn't you say?"

"Get out of my house, Katherine," Damon croaked. The tears were burning his throat.

"Did I hurt your feelings?" she asked softly and then laughed. "Don't you feel it, Damon? It's already happening."

"What?" this time he spoke with irritation lacing his question. People, spirits, Budda had been talking to him in circles all night. He was tired of it all!

"You started something the night you killed Bonnie and it's only going to snowball. Good luck."

She strutted towards the door and Damon didn't even try to stop her to question what she meant by that. He didn't need too. Something had happened to him tonight. Something more than likely had happened to his brother as well. The cold feeling he felt earlier in his room had returned.

Deflection and denial were some of Damon's best friends. He poured himself another drink, and then another, and didn't stop until he realized that nearly half the bottle was gone.

His vision blurred. His body was too heavy for his bones and he couldn't stand upright to save his life. With his bed being too far away, Damon settled on the couch and tried to make his mind go blank. It wasn't working. There was too much activity. Too many voices.

The door to the boardinghouse opened again. Stefan slowly inched his way inside. Everything hurt. Waking up in the cemetery, disoriented, and extremely malnourished and dehydrated—for a vampire—he was amazed he was still alive.

He had been found next to his car by the groundskeeper. Because his stomach had been empty for days prior to his gravesite visit, Stefan couldn't hone in his hunger and attacked the poor middle aged man. He was certain he didn't kill him, but the blood had been enough to push Stefan to his feet, and left him cognizant enough to drive back home.

Stefan found Damon sprawled out on the couch. There was a stale odor to the air but also a flowery scent.

"Who was here?" was the first thing out of Stefan's mouth.

"Katherine," Damon answered sounding just as drained of energy as Stefan felt.

"What did she want?"

"She wanted to be my friend and to get me liquored up. She only succeeded in one area."

Stefan shook his head. The last thing he needed on his long list of problems was Katherine screwing around. However, all of that could be placed on the back burner. He wanted a shower, some more blood, and finally to fall into a dreamless sleep for the next two years.

"Where have you been?" Damon asked Stefan who was making his way upstairs.

"Out," Stefan replied curtly. He'd tell Damon what happened to him in the cemetery later, mainly because Stefan was still having a hard time believing the events that happened to him.

With no one to talk to, Damon settled against the leather cushions of the couch again. His life was shit. He only existed now which was worst than running for your life because at least then you had a purpose.

"Come on," he said. "Someone show up and try to take me out."

"With pleasure."

Chapter end.

**A/N: If the beginning confused you, it was a snippet of some of the weird and twisted things that will start to happen in Mystic Falls. Do you think its' tied in to what happened to Bonnie or something which was inevitable? Stay tuned. And guilt has a way of manifesting itself, Damon has discovered that the hard way. And Caroline and Bonnie…was Caroline dreaming or had Bonnie really been there? Until next time, love you guys.**


	5. Part V

**A/N: Hi, sorry for the minor delay in an update. First I want to thank Alla-Matta for the awesome banner, cover art for Femme Fatale *smiling maniacally* that I saw on Tumblr. It was kick-ass and you are definitely talented! And thanks overall to everyone who's been reading this story and leaving me your feedback. **

***Warning* This gets a little horror movie-ish in some parts. **

Disclaimer: These characters (aside from my OC's) are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Violence often begets more violence. Those who wielded power seldom part with it to share with others. Justice wasn't blind or it was blind to the real monsters that hid in the shadows, conducted their business on the black market leaving behind ruined generations with no way of escape.

Justice was about to land on Damon Salvatore's head.

Heat fled the living room despite there was a fire burning in the hearth. Goose bumps pimpled Damon's alabaster skin. The fine hairs on the back of his arms rose as if sensing some electrical interference. His teeth were on edge and he could have sworn his gums were bleeding. There was a force present in the room with him that was far more powerful than him.

"With pleasure," said a voice that Damon only recognized as belonging to one person.

Bolting off the couch like a Jack-in-the-Box, Damon whirled around to face the entrance of the living room. His eyes blinked once, twice, and a third time and he still had issues with believing what he was seeing.

"Sheila Bennett," Damon nearly hissed, but his throat tightened and cut off the veiled threat.

The woman in question, apparition come to life, stood across from Damon, an eyebrow lifted in the air as she raked disapproving eyes over him like he was scum of the fucking earth. "I told you a long time ago, Damon that I am not Bonnie…that you don't want to mess with me…"

There was little on the planet that had the ability to scare Damon to the point he wanted to piss his pants. Sheila was doing an excellent job on that accord of making him feel like he had incontinence.

Damon steeled his spine. "You look good…for a dead chick."

"You don't seem overly surprised by my being here. But then again, you think my entire family, a family that has lost their lives because of you evil bloodsuckers that we're all roasting in hell. Well, I should tell you…we saved you a seat at the dinner table."

Gulping nervously, Damon prided himself on knowing how to backtrack. Unfortunately it never provided the results he needed, but he would try nonetheless. Say whatever you wanted about him, he did love his undead life too much to just give it up. He wasn't like Stefan. Death would never be an option for him, or an acceptable alternative to pain and punishment. Damon had been selfish his entire life. He had years left to roam the earth, drain the blood out of strangers, and convince himself that his life actually had purpose. He wasn't about to forfeit without a fight.

"What I did…wait…I don't have to explain myself to you," he sniffed. "You're not real. This is _my _house. Poof the fuck out."

Then something utterly amazing happened. Sheila's eyes turned completely white.

Doubly worried now, Damon thought and calculated if he had enough speed to zoom out of the house before she pulled any of her beyond-the-grave hocus pocus and seriously fuck him up. Damon thought about calling out to Stefan, perhaps as a distraction, but then it was too late.

Something was burning on the inside of his body. Deep in his guts. Wiggling around in his intestines. Groaning, he bent over awkwardly at the waist, grabbing his stomach foolishly thinking it might redirect or stop the pain. It felt like she was setting him on fire from the inside out, only smoke wasn't billowing from his nostrils, ears, or mouth.

Sheila began to speak again. "I knew I should have taken care of you the day you showed up on my doorstep looking for Bonnie, posturing as some lethal killer to be reckoned with. Here's your wish, Damon. Prove to me you're as ruthless as you claim to be."

Sure, Damon would indulge her only his body felt like he was being placed into a paper shredder. The pain was enough to knock him to his knees and then on his back.

Sheila stood above him, glaring down at him with those eerie all-white eyes and calm expression.

A tear rolled from the corner of Damon's eyes, landed on the carpet underneath his head. "Please," he croaked.

"Please what? Did my granddaughter beg for her life? Did you show her an ounce or sliver of mercy?"

Those were all rhetorical questions, Damon knew that somewhere in the back of his mind. He was being numbed by the pain and couldn't answer and at this point what he had to say in his defense wouldn't matter.

"I'm sure you were expecting me to throw you around, knock a few vases over your head, but I've always taken the more subtle approach in life. This will do. For now."

Damon wouldn't have to question what she meant by that. His shirt was ripped open, exposing his lean torso and then, his left hand was being controlled against his will.

"What are you doing?" Damon asked frantically.

Sheila didn't answer, merely glowered down at him, as if watching a doctor operate on a cadaver.

Damon's fingers were now digging into his chest, pressing into his skin, and then that's when he came to the realization that Sheila was going to make him rip his own heart out.

Biting his lower lip, head arching against the carpet, tears bled out of his eyes. Damon never would have imagined it would be quite this painful. Looking down to examine how deep his fingers had gone, they were imbedded an inch into his body.

Unintelligible sounds gurgled out of his mouth. Sheila's smirk was sinister at best. Blood bubbled to the surface and ran out of the puncture wounds in tiny snake-like rivers down Damon's chest. His fingers were now buried knuckle deep in his chest. Damon jerked and winced every time he broke a rib.

One of his fingers touched the smooth, slippery surface of the left atrium of his heart. "Arrrggggg, _She-i-la_."

She didn't respond to his unfinished plea.

Damon now had a hold of his heart, feeling it move, sticking momentarily to his blood coated fingers. He tried to fight against the force that was making him do this, but to no avail his hand began to pull, ripping his aorta, tearing the right coronary artery. He silently begged for unconsciousness to come and swallow him into a black pit. Of course his request was denied.

Damon wondered if he should think about his life because it wasn't exactly flashing before his eyes at the moment. Instead, his thoughts were noticeably blank. The pain and reality that he was only seconds away from permanent death took precedence over everything else. In a way, this was all very anticlimactic.

"…damon…"

His brain was still functional, which wasn't exactly a good thing. The nerves in his body were still sending messages up his spinal cord and into his cerebellum processing pain, translating it into a thousand different languages.

"Sleep well, Damon."

Now Sheila wanted to be sweet and sentimental.

Something was shaking him, interfering with his death. Why couldn't he be left alone to enjoy his final moment, only thinking about the pain and nothing else? Was that too much to ask?

"…Damon you need to wake up…"

Hun? Wake up from what? He was dying, right? He was in essence committing suicide, right?

"…gotdamnit open your eyes…"

_To see what, the flames of hell? Nope, I think I'd like to postpone that for a few more seconds. _

And then, a balled fist punched his cheek, turning his head, making his eyes snap open.

Damon sat up and nearly collided his skull with Stefan's. Looking down and grabbing his chest, Damon's eyes darted left to right, east to west and saw that it was just him and his brother. Sheila was gone or had never been there. He dreamt the whole thing. He brought his left hand up and saw that it wasn't stained with blood. There was no fire incinerating his organs from the inside out. It had all been a very vivid, but a very fucked up dream.

"Stefan?" it was tough going for Damon to get his bearings together.

Stefan stared down at his brother with extreme concern. "I heard you screaming."

Furious orbs flew to Stefan. "I don't scream."

"Well, you were screaming. You must have been having some kind of nightmare."

"Has anyone been in the house?" Damon stood up from the couch, looked around, listening for movement from any of the other floors of the house.

"No, it's just us. Like its been for weeks now. Seriously, Damon…are you all right?"

No! He wasn't all right. Sheila had almost killed him in his sleep, and it was the cold realization that if Stefan hadn't woken him up when he did, Damon might have actually done the impossible and ripped his heart out of his body. He felt sick suddenly, like he wanted to vomit up that expensive booze Katherine left him. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, saliva collected in the back of his throat. He needed a toilet and fast.

Stefan watched in horror as a green pallor came over Damon's skin. Getting him a glass of water would seem foolish since vampires didn't and couldn't get sick. It was a human reaction, and a human belief that water could make someone feel better. He felt as helpless as Damon looked.

"Something is going on," Stefan spoke the obvious into existence.

"Really?" Damon deadpanned sharply. "What gave you that impression?"

Pursing his lips, Stefan was fully prepared to tell his brother which circle of hell to go to and how to get there when he felt a foreboding presence barreling down on him. It was the same feeling he sensed out in the cemetery right before he was catapulted through the air and impaled on a tree. Hissing under his breath, Stefan fully expected something to slam into him, but he would put up a semi-meager fight first.

"Do you hear that?" Damon stilled and asked. It was low. But then grew in volume. It sounded like thousands of voices whispering in some language he couldn't decipher.

"Yeah, I do hear it," Stefan's eyes were going all around the room expecting to see a legion of people bottle necking into his house.

The whispers were all they could hear until it resembled a monstrous howl.

"Okay, I'm out," Damon zoomed to the door, Stefan fast on his heels.

Motel 6 here they come. Damon hoped someone left the light on for them.

Damon and Stefan clamored into Damon's car. Damon felt like they were being rushed at from all sides. Jamming the keys into the ignition, Damon started the engine. Like a gunshot going off, the windows blew and all four ties instantly exploded. Glass ricocheted and flew everywhere, impaling their skin leaving behind a thousand little pin pricks.

The vampires attempted to get out of the car, but the doors wouldn't open. Soon their ears were being assaulted by the sound of metal denting, twisting, and grinding. The car was closing in on itself. The roof flattened and almost pancaked them.

"Kick the fucking door!" Damon roared. He and Stefan, backs pressed together, kicked with all their might at the doors but they didn't budge.

Sardines, they were going to die like sardines in a can.

They had a very small sliver of space to climb out of one of the windows in the back. Damon reclined his seat as far as it could go, and then quickly hustled out of the car, ignoring the glass that got wedged in the palms of his hands, and scraped along his chest and stomach. Stefan followed suit and barely cleared his legs before the car flattened.

Breathing heavily, the brothers stared at what was left of Damon's car and then at one another.

"We walk," Stefan said.

"Yeah," Damon was quick to come into agreement.

* * *

There was a litany of weapons spread across the kitchen table. Knives, daggers, wooden stakes, rope, wire, straight razors, heavy-duty gloves, zip-ties, vervain grenades, 12-gauge shotgun bullets filled with wooden buckshot, chains, so forth and so on.

Matt watched as Tyler and Jeremy tested the elasticity of their crossbows, and the sharpness of the pointed tip of the arrows. He was doing his level-best not to chicken out but it was slowly dawning on him what he was preparing to do. He was about to kill something other than an insect or occasional mouse, and it made his guts bubble with apprehension.

Tyler sensed Matt's hesitation and stared at him. "You all right, Matt?"

Startled, Matt flashed his incandescent blue eyes up at Tyler. He wasn't entirely sure what to say. If it would be cool to expose his inner feelings. For so long Damon and Stefan had been human in Matt's eyes until he learned the ugly truth that vampires and werewolves were real. When Caroline admitted the truth to him, at first Matt thought it was either the smoke fumes from The Grill when it caught on fire that had messed with his mind and vision. What he saw his girlfriend transform into couldn't have been real, couldn't exist in nature. But Caroline broke down the truth, and then everything clicked.

Vickie hadn't been out of her mind when she said she had been attacked by a vampire. His sister was turned into one, went bat-shit crazy, attacked Elena, and Stefan killed her.

Needless to say, Matt wanted absolutely no freaking part of the supernatural world he was now submerged in. He basically ordered all his friends to stay away from him, brandished them as liars, and murderers. He didn't know them. They were no longer operating in the same world.

Now everything's changed again, revolutionized without his permission, and as a human there was little he could do to reverse the damage. It was permanent like a traumatic brain injury. Matt could leave the past behind all he wanted to, but unfortunately it wouldn't leave him alone.

Nodding his head, Matt went about his weapons check. In four days, when the moon was full, and Tyler would be at full strength, that's when they were going after the Salvatore's.

Jeremy stared at Matt skeptically. He understood fully what he was going through because he went through the same thing emotionally that Matt was struggling with now. A plan was only as good as its weakest link, and right now Matt was their weak link.

"You don't have to do this," Jeremy said to Matt, testing his resolve.

The uncertainty swallowing Matt's face vanished and was replaced with determination. "I can do this. We've talked about this for weeks. Damon and Stefan…they had their chance to save themselves by leaving, but they're still here. But I will say this…I just hope none of us dies going after them."

"You can say that again," Tyler snorted. He was no fan of dying either. "But we'll be all right so long as we stick together and stick to the plan. Second-guessing is what will increase our chances of being slaughtered. If it all goes to shit," Tyler's voice turned serious, "I want you to know between the three of us…we've had our ups, downs, and misunderstandings, but I'm glad we at least got the chance to become real brothers. To the end."

Tyler extended his hand towards Matt who studied it for a second before shaking it. He repeated the same action with Jeremy, solidifying the brotherhood between them.

"All right," Matt said and cleared the frog from his throat. "I gotta go home and change before my shift starts. In four days, gentleman," his tone ominous.

"Four days," Tyler seconded.

"Four days," Jeremy hammered in.

It didn't take Matt long to reach home. He quickly stripped, hopped in the shower, and scrubbed his body. Wiping wayward drops of water from his eyes, he blindly reached for a towel, but it felt like someone handed it to him. Hesitantly wrapping it around his lean hips, Matt stepped out of the shower, and headed to the sink. He wiped the condensation off the mirror and thought he saw a figure looming behind him.

He spun around. No one was there. The hairs on his body began to rise and he felt cold all of a sudden despite the steamed warmth of the bathroom.

Flinging the door open, Matt, as a precaution checked both ends of the halls prior to crossing over into his bedroom. He came to a standstill.

Feathers were floating.

Slightly awed and equally more freaked out, Matt's heart began to thunder. He licked his pale pink lips and cautiously put one foot in front of the other as he stepped into his room. Feathers gently brushed against his skin. Some floated and twirled like a dancer, others remained perfectly balanced in the air, not moving an inch in any direction.

"Bonnie?"

Matt prepared himself for his bedroom door to slam shut. Wasn't that how things worked when dealing with ghosts? They slammed things to let you know they were among you?

Nothing happened. The feathers remained suspended in the air.

"If you're here I want you to know…I love you, Bonnie."

The feathers began to fly around the room and formed a cyclone. Matt watched in amazement before they suddenly dropped to the floor.

Staring at the feathers, Matt's brow furrowed. The feathers had been used to spell out something.

He read what it said, "Don't."

Matt was confused. Don't say he loved her or don't carry out his plan for revenge? "I don't understand."

He waited for the feathers to do something else creative and they did. They began moving like chess pieces, forming another word.

"Taken care of," Matt read aloud once again. He lifted his head and stared at the walls of his room. "Bonnie if you're doing something…we can help you. You don't have to do this by yourself."

The feathers moved again. "Love you." And in that message Matt knew the discussion was over and done with.

Feeling conflicted he wasn't sure what to do. Tell Jeremy and Tyler or keep this to himself, and go about implementing the plan? He had too many unanswered questions, but once it hit Matt that Bonnie communicated with him, warmth began to spread through him. She didn't appear to be in distress, and might have found a sliver of happiness on the other side. That being said, what was she cooking up, what was she going to do? Well, he could pose those questions to the four walls of his room all he liked, but it didn't mean he would be divulged any information.

Matt pulled out his uniform and tried to put the incident which just occurred behind him, but he couldn't. He began moving quickly as if terrified suddenly to be alone in his house. Hastily he dressed, urgently wanting to leave before something else happened.

Fifteen minutes later, Matt headed to his truck and noticed that the sky was darkening. He smelled rain. Rain washed away the impurities from the earth. Matt would look at it as a good thing.

* * *

**Across town...**

The Leman family was like most families who lived in Mystic Falls. They were friendly towards their neighbors, attended every single Founder's event as if it were a major holiday. The children were well-behaved, bright students who attended the local elementary school and their teachers had nothing but good things to say about them.

The father worked in sales, where the mom operated a small specialty calendar business out of their home office. The Leman's attended a non-denominational church every single Sunday, volunteered just as religiously. They fostered rehabilitated dogs and cats until they were adopted, paid for strangers groceries or dinner on a whim. In other words they were the kind of people you wanted to know.

Sheriff Liz Forbes pulled her cruiser along the curb of their suburban home. Jim Leman's boss called her office citing that Jim hadn't reported to work in the last three days, which was not like him at all. Jim Leman was usually first in the office and last to leave. Mr. Brickman, Jim's boss thought maybe there might have been a family emergency, or perhaps something else had happened, and asked the Sheriff to look into it. So Liz called their home. No answer. Called the children's school, and verified they had not been present in three days.

The family's mini-van was parked in the driveway. Walking up the manicured brick pathway, Liz accompanied by another deputy stepped up on the porch and knocked on the door. Waiting for twenty seconds and when no one came to answer the door, Liz knocked again, and pressed down on the door bell.

Still nothing.

Looking over her shoulder at her deputy to possibly ready his firearm, Liz tested the doorknob and was surprised it wasn't locked.

Entering the premises under probable cause, Liz pushed the door open only a crack, and the first thing to greet her was a pungent odor that caused her to gag.

Liz had dealt with death enough to know she would find a dead body inside. "Jim Leman! It's Sheriff Liz Forbes! If you're home…step out please, sir!"

There was no corresponding response. Worried and filled with trepidation, Liz armed herself and pushed the door completely open. She could hear flies buzzing around, and the stench that flew out when the door was merely cracked had intensified and slapped her across the cheek. Liz almost went reeling backwards. She coughed.

"I'll be right back," Deputy Stevens said. Liz waited for him on the porch. He returned with a small bottle of Vick's Vapor Rub, and two face masks.

Each of them smeared a bit of the aromatic medicine under their noses to block off the horrid smell of a decomposing body, and slipped on the masks.

Despite the smell, Liz was praying they'd only find one dead body.

She and Deputy Stevens did a sweep of the first floor. The living room was immaculate. A few of the children's toys were scattered around, but nothing seemed out of place, or missing suggesting a home invasion had occurred.

In the kitchen, the pungent odor of rotting food sent Liz's stomach on a tailspin, but she remembered her training, and sucked it up. Apparently the Leman family had been preparing to sit down to dinner. Open pots were on the stove. Taking a quick peek inside, Liz saw rotting spaghetti noodles. Milk had been poured into two glasses. It was spoiled by this point adding yet another interesting smell in the room. A salad sat on the kitchen island, the leaves wilted and browned; the vegetables that had been added were covered with green fuzzy mold.

Quickly vacating the kitchen, the twosome headed upstairs.

The smell increased. The stairs opened to a narrow hallway that expanded to the right and left. The smell was so heavy in the air it was like its own entity. She and the deputy decided to check the rooms to the left first. Everything checked out. They backtracked and went down the right hallway.

"Blood," Deputy Stevens said as he noticed a few splatters were on the wall. Liz nodded her head and then headed towards the only door on this end of the hall.

It was the master bedroom. And what Liz saw, she could no longer feel her feet on the floor.

"We're they filming a horror movie in here?" Deputy Stevens muttered impertinently.

Liz had no answer. Blood smeared the walls, the ceiling, there was pools of it soaked into the cream carpet. The bed was painted in slashes of red, deep crimson, and black. There was a hand print on the ceramic lamp. However, there was something noticeably missing from this picture.

Bodies.

Mindful of the pools of blood and making sure she didn't step into any of them to contaminate the scene, Liz tried to concentrate on doing her job and not focus on the massacre that took place in this room. Instinct directed her to the bathroom. Opening the door, that's when Liz hung her composure up on the wall.

Placing the back of her hand to cover her mouth, tears blinded her eyes. She cursed long and loud. Blood was everywhere. It was like someone filled up a bucket with it and threw it up in the air. Blood dripped from the walls, painted the mirror, was smeared all over the floor, but it wasn't that which caught and held Liz's focus. It was the garden tub.

It was filled to the rim with dismembered body parts.

From a distance Liz could almost convince herself that she was looking at mannequin pieces, but she knew better. Those weren't plastic anatomically correct body parts, but were actual human arms, legs, feet, and torsos.

Deputy Stevens whispered, "Jesus," and then made the cross over his chest.

Liz was going to throw up. Shakily she said to Stevens, "Call in the unit. We're going to need backup."

Her life was never going to be the same again.

Liz waited outside for the crime scene investigative until from the next county over to arrive. The fresh air felt good to breathe in, but still she could smell death wafting from that house. It made her shiver and want to go into early retirement. Suffice to say, Liz was happy to hand the baton over to the lone detective of Mystic Falls. Yes, the town had been plagued with nothing but murders, but they had always been of a supernatural sort and easily written off as animal attacks. They had a real murder on their hands. No good vampire would waste an ounce of blood. Those bodies would have been exsanguinated. Drained. Not a drop left. So vampires were ruled out as the culprit.

Werewolves ripped their vics to shreds, but Liz hadn't seen a single paw print.

Hours passed and the body parts had been sorted and reassembled on plastic tarps. As suspected, it was the two children and the wife who had been dismembered and stuffed into the bathtub.

Jim Leman was missing and the number one suspect. Liz and the other deputies canvassed the area, asked the locals if they heard anything, or knew if the Leman's had exhibited any strange or unusual behavior.

No one had heard or seen a thing. And the Leman's behaved as they always had—uncommonly friendly.

"I don't understand why a man who has no mental health history would haul off and chop his family to pieces. He was in good standing at work. They were current with all their bills so they weren't in financial straits. People don't snap unless provoked by something," Liz tried to figure out this complicated puzzle.

"Was the wife having an affair?" Deputy Stevens asked. "Maybe the husband found out and one thing led to another. People have killed out of a jealous rage before."

Liz shrugged, but felt Stevens was reaching. "We'll have to look into it, but from what we've been able to gather from the neighbors, Jim and Anne Leman were a perfect, happily married couple. The only time they fought was over who would cook dinner, according to their close associates."

One of the crime scene investigators called for Liz and Stevens to come back inside.

"What's up?"

"Listen," the investigator said.

Liz was confused but she didn't move a muscle and tried to listen for something. What? She wasn't so sure. And then she heard it. A thump. Liz waited to see if she would hear it again, and once more there was a dull sound, like something hitting a wall.

"Where is that coming from?" she asked.

"The attic possibly. Jim Leman might still be here."

Nodding her head, Liz reached for her firearm, and then led the way to the attic, when instinctually she wanted to leave the house altogether.

Deputy Stevens reached up to pull the stairs down from the ceiling on the second floor.

Steeling her spine, Liz walked up the steep stairs and looked around the darkened space. She reached for her flashlight and clicked it on. At first she saw nothing but piled up boxes, and insulation. Clearing the rest of the steps, and entering the attic, nothing out of the ordinary, but Liz turned sharply when she heard that thump again.

Her light passed over what appeared to be a body. The person's back was to her. She was proud of the fact she didn't scream. But her hand was shaking and she couldn't focus her light on one particular thing. It was cold inside of the attic and Liz could see her breath.

Deputy Stevens spotted a fuse box, and lifted the lever flooding the attic with light.

"Oh, God," Liz swallowed as her eyes adjusted to the light. "I just found Jim Leman. He hung himself."

Stevens cursed.

Jim Leman with his back facing them, he thumped against the wall, his head contorted at an odd angle. And then as if he weren't completely dead, his body began to turn to face them.

And Liz would never be able to get that out of her mind.

* * *

Caroline didn't break any laws in rushing over to Klaus' house. He opened the door as if he had been anticipating her arrival since she didn't have to knock. Klaus quickly ushered her inside and instead of heading to the private den he showed her to on her last visit, they made a detour to the solarium.

The space was beautiful like the rest of the house. Klaus had even gone so far as to have lunch ready for her, but Caroline wasn't interested in eating.

She sat down across him from. "I need you to call off the witch," Caroline said without preamble.

Taking a sip of tea, Klaus chuckled. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

Caroline blinked. "What do you mean that's not possible? I thought you were the great and mighty Klaus and all you have to do is rub your two fingers together and people die and shit?"

Klaus flashed his dimples. "What I mean, love is that the witch I found to help you carry out your little diabolical plan is already here. Karishna…you can come out now."

Caroline flicked her eyes to the woman who floated in the room. Well, she wasn't at _all _what Caroline had been expecting.

Karishna was exotic like her namesake. Caroline had no idea what the woman could have been: Egyptian, African, Middle-Eastern, Native American a combination of all of those. She had beautiful russet skin that reminded Caroline of terra cotta pottery. She had slanted, hooded dark brown eyes that bespoke of knowing the mysteries of the world. Her hair was straight, black and looked blue in certain light. She wore it pulled back from her face. She had an aquiline shaped nose that dipped to a pair of lips that were shaped like Pocahontas'. A rounded chin and high cheekbones completed the understated beauty of her face. Karishna was attired in a sleek and modern black suit with leather patches on the elbows. She looked ready for the boardroom.

Klaus stood and pulled out a chair for Karishna. She thanked him in a language Caroline couldn't understand nor speak.

She suddenly felt frumpy sitting next to the glamorous woman. Caroline knew now wasn't the time to be superficial and worried about her looks, but she couldn't help it. She was, however, curious about the nature of the woman's relationship with Klaus. He had made it no secret that he fancied witches. Karishna could easily take off her business suit, put on a designer gown, and be red carpet ready in under twenty minutes.

Caroline, not so much.

"Karishna let me introduce you to my…friend…Miss Caroline Forbes. Caroline this is Karishna Parthenopeaeus. She is a curator of the arts and mostly does business in Europe."

Caroline reached to shake Karishna's hand and noticed that the woman made no offer to extend hers. Sniffing, Caroline retracted her hand and tried her best not to look offended.

"I mean no offense, but those who are not personally acquainted with me receive a nice little zap when they touch my skin. I was only trying to spare you."

"Oh, none taken," Caroline mumbled, and tried to place her accent. She sounded British but that wasn't an indicator of her place of birth. "Look, I'm not sure what Klaus told you, but I'd like to take my offer off the table. I've come to the sudden realization that something's in nature will take care of itself, and you can only exacerbate a problem by trying to put in your two cents. So thank you for even hearing us out, but I won't be needing your services."

Karishna smiled and briefly looked at Klaus. "She's far more intelligent than she looks, but I think there has been a misunderstanding across the board. You see, I _can't_ do anything to help you."

Klaus was caught off guard by that news. Karishna was unlike other witches. She charged a hefty price for her services. Some witches would do a spell here and there for a relic of the ancient world, or to fall under the protection of a certain immortal. Karishna was not interested in collecting talismans. She made her own. And there was nothing a vampire could do for her that she couldn't do for herself. What she loved was money, the dollar bill, preferably Ben Franklin and lots of him.

Someone owed him a refund. Just to get her to show up to this meeting nearly put him in the pour house.

"What do you mean, Karishna?" Klaus asked.

"You don't feel it?" Karishna responded to his question with one of her own.

Klaus shook his head.

Karishna laughed dryly. "My magic will not work in Mystic Falls because there's an impenetrable shield over it, effectively making my magic useless. Let me put it this way. Something is already at work and you'll begin to see the results of what's happening very shortly, if it isn't happening already. I took the liberty of digging deeper into Mystic Falls' history," Karishna turned to face Caroline. "You're a member of one of the founding families, yes?"

Nodding, Caroline waited for the anvil that was looming over her head to fall.

"This town's history is far more disturbing than what happened back in 1864. That's where the historians love to start the story, but what transformed the land happened nearly three hundred years before the vampires were rounded up and the witches were burned."

"I think you may have your facts wrong, my love," Klaus interjected. He knew the history of Mystic Falls backwards and forwards. Had lived here a thousand years ago. Granted his family moved away, scattered across the earth in the early eleven hundreds, but if anything of the supernatural sort occurred while he was away, Klaus would have known about it.

"I assure you, Klaus, I don't and the story I'm about to tell you, at the end you might consider packing up, leaving, and never returning. Spirits talk and they've been in an uproar ever since," she turned back to face Caroline, "your friend died."

Gulping, Caroline threw a glance at Klaus prior to looking at Karishna.

Having both of the vampire's rapt attention Karishna slid back against the seat. "What do you know about the Slaves Revenge of 1669?"

"Nothing. This is the first I've heard of it," Klaus hunched his shoulders.

"It was certainly never covered in any of my history classes," Caroline muttered.

Karishna took a sip of her tea. "This story wouldn't be found in a textbook of today because what happened to this group of enslaved persons…no one would want to call this place home ever again. You _all _should be worried."

Several chills ran down Caroline's spine. She felt she had been dashed in the face with ice-cold water.

"What happened?" Caroline found herself asking despite the fact she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the story Karishna was about to share with her and Klaus.

Karishna cleared her throat. "Well…it all began like this…"

Chapter end.

**A/N: So Sheila Bennett was the one to show up. I'm sure you were not expecting that. Something is definitely out to get the Salvatore brothers, but who exactly is pulling the strings? And some of you didn't want Lucy or another Bennett to be the witch Klaus went out to get, and from the beginning I didn't want her or someone else to be used as a plot device. If this story seems to be getting too dark for you, I apologize but I've always kind of wanted to tell a story like this. And this is helping me to get out of my own comfort zone which is mostly writing angst, drama, romance, and ah *coughs* smut. The heat will be turned up another notch. Thanks for reading, you guys! Love you!**


	6. Part VI

**A/N: Hi everyone. I've been trying to write this chapter for a few days because it's a little complicated. I might make changes to make it flow better and if I do I'll let you know. Thank you once again for reading, reviewing, adding to your lists of faves, alerts all that good stuff. It certainly helps to keep this fresh in my mind. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property (except my OC) of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Just a special note…this is Karishna telling the story of the Slave Revenge of 1669. It's graphic just letting you know now. **

"You could taste the spice in the air. But along with it the degradation, the inhumanity, the death, but most importantly the hatred. Mystic Falls before it was known as Mystic Falls used be called Richland Plantation, the largest plantation in southern Virginia with the largest vampire coven in history. They were some forty odd persons strong with anywhere between two hundred to three hundred slaves. It was also one of the most lavish, and wealthy plantations in the state, but it all came with too high a price that the slaves paid, and when things were especially bad, they paid for it with their lives.

"Limbs were cut off, tongues removed, backs lashed with the whip and then tarred. Those were everyday occurrences. No punishment was too severe, and no punishment was good enough. They were worked until their bones literally broke through their skins. They were worked until they died right there in the fields. And at night, the vampires would dine on the blood of the fallen.

"The slaves knew their masters weren't like other masters. They were never seen during the day, and they moved with incredible speed, and had uncanny strength. Intrinsically the slaves knew they were evil, and that fighting them individually would mean certain death.

"But there came a point where they simply said enough was enough. So a rebellion was staged. The slaves were going to flee this place and run as far and as fast as their blistered covered feet could take them. They only had the stars in the sky and natural instinct to guide them because no one could be trusted. They spoke in code through song naming the time and the day they would make their escape.

"Now you have to understand that there were hired hands on the plantation. The enforcers of the vampires will, day slavemasters if you will. They also kept watch of them overnight, scrutinizing their every move, keeping the cycle of fear and hatred alive. The first step to freedom was eluding them. The enforcers had weapons, but the slaves outnumbered them. Luckily there was one among the enslaved who knew about herbs and which ones were deadly. Her name was Seraph.

"She didn't work in the kitchen. But she was able to gather what poisonous flowers she could, crushed them and with some clever maneuvering, was able to get the herbs to the cook.

"The day slavemasters me their end by consuming poisoned soup.

"The slaves had gathered in the courtyard with what provisions they could ration and together, they fled. But they chanced their leaving too late, thinking dusk would keep them protected and also light the way. When the vampires emerged that night and discovered what had been done…they went out and hunted each and every single slave down. Brought them back, and then…did their worst.

"The men were tethered to horses, wrists and ankles, and then were pulled them apart, and the pieces were burned. The women were bound, gagged, repeatedly raped, were beaten within an inch of their life, and then had to witness their children being murdered. Some of the children were hanged, or had their heads smashed between rocks."

Caroline shivered and squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She sniffled and tried to drive away the images of seeing defenseless children being slaughtered in her mind. It wasn't working. She could hear the women's screams in her ear, the children's cries as little arms reached out for their mothers while they were dragged to their barbaric death. Bile tickled the back of Caroline's throat as she imagined the air tainted with the stench of burning human flesh. To distract herself she cautioned a look at Klaus whose face was impassive, yet the tightening of his mouth was the only indication that Karishna's story was getting to him.

Karishna continued. "All of their bodies were eventually burned, while their blood soaked the ground.

"It was murderous what happened to those enslaved persons. Brutality at its worst and most unforgiving. Yet one managed to getaway, and she saw what happened and made a vow to return and seek retribution for her family, for her friends, for those who couldn't defend themselves. Two years later she returned.

"This woman used dark magic to bring about her revenge. She raised the spirits of the dead, made them impervious to wards and other protections at that time, so they could carry out their vengeance.

"And they were efficient in what they did. The Richland vampires were desiccated, burned, or made to eat their own flesh for years upon time. Magic like that twisted the spirits and they began to lust after the taste of blood and began to spread out to other plantations wiping out entire families, and their livestock. For two years it continued, the endless bloodshed, the mysterious deaths. People turned on one another and themselves. It soon became an epidemic and Seraph knew it was time to put a stop to it yet it was all beyond her control.

"She had to correct the balance and the only way to do so was through a sacrifice. So Seraph made a deal that so long as one of her kind remained and protected the land, then the spirits would have to stop their bloodshed. She offered herself as the sacrifice. The balance accepted the terms."

"Wait," Caroline interrupted although she didn't want to; however she was confused by something. "If she was the only one of her kind then why would they accept her being the sacrifice? Then that means the land wouldn't be protected."

Karishna stirred her spoon in her tea cup prior to taking a sip. "She left behind her children. Two generations of sorcerers. But the spirits are crafty in finding loopholes. They would resume their revenge if a witch in Seraph's lineage was brutally murdered. The contract becomes null and void. And so it is. The bloodline you know as the Bennett's began its servitude to Mystic Falls."

"And because Bonnie is dead…now the spirits are going to have free reign?" Caroline asked.

Karishna nodded. "I'm sorry," she said with full sincerity. "The spirits will begin to clean house, if you will. They will do their absolute worst and effectively try to wipe Mystic Falls off the map. And with your vampire problem, they have been _aching _for this moment."

"Is there anything we can do to stop it? Bonnie has a cousin…Lucy…if she came here would that be enough to placate the spirits?" Caroline asked hastily.

"Only if she is a full-blooded Bennett."

Caroline sighed. What she had hoped to be a simple, covert operation was turning into something far worse than she could have ever imagined. Bonnie said she was handling it, but she never specified what. Did she know about the Slaves Revenge of 1669? Did she know her death would cause these series of events to happen? Caroline highly doubted it. She was but one person. What could she hope to do to prevent the coming bloodshed?

Groaning, Caroline covered her eyes. "Things were not supposed to happen like this."

"No, they weren't," Karishna muttered and drained the rest of the tea in her cup.

* * *

Something was wrong with him. There was a burning in the center of his chest that spread to his eye sockets. Damon could only loosely connect this feeling to a human experiencing ingestion. Rolling to a sitting position on the lumpy mattress in the dismal hotel room he and Stefan camped out in, he winced as he grabbed his cell phone to check the time.

It was a little past ten in the morning. His mouth felt and tasted like cotton. There was a dull ache pounding in the back of his skull, and his ears were ringing. If he didn't know any better he would say he was hung over. That liquor Katherine gave him was strong as hell if he was still feeling it two days later.

He coughed and then got to his feet. The floor shifted so dramatically that Damon thought he actually tipped over, but apparently he was still upright. His vision began to go in and out of focus.

"The fuq," he drew out wondering what in the hell was wrong with him now. After tangling with Sheila's ghost and nearly being flattened to death in his own car, he just hoped the Poltergeist act was over and done with. He had never been a big fan of sequels.

"Stefan?" Damon called. He didn't hear anything. Not even the sound of the shower running. He turned and saw that the other double bed was perfectly made up.

Scratching his arm, Damon carefully made his way to the bathroom. Perhaps a shower would wake him up and he'd feel less like the dead. Note the irony.

Snapping on the muted light, Damon stripped, turned on the shower and stepped in before the water even warmed up. He was just too impatient.

The frigid water cleared away the rest of the cobwebs in his rattled mind. Killing that witch was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth. Elena hated his guts. He was run out of his own home by a bunch of lame special effects. Stefan was being a pest with all his moping around and brooding, and to top it all off, Damon hadn't gotten properly laid in weeks! Everyone should have moved on from Bonnie's death by now. Why was her passing such a big fucking deal when so many other people lost their lives like Jenna? Everyone was able to move on just a week or so later as if nothing happened, Damon griped.

Wasn't Jenna special? She had been killed _twice_ by Klaus and no one wanted to rain fire and brimstone on his little golden head. But no, Damon cracks one little neck and it's World War III. Okay, all right so everyone pretty much put his or her life on hold to come up with or discover some way to take Klaus out for good. All of their collective plans failed. Yet everyone moved on like it was no big deal.

Damon was washing his hair by this point wondering why he was still thinking along these terms to begin with. If he wanted everyone to move on from Bonnie's death, shouldn't he do the same? Now that he thought about it, he _had _thought of nothing except Bonnie's death.

His fingers scratched his scalp almost maddeningly and he was sure to draw blood. Easing up a bit, Damon reached for the shampoo bottle yet froze. There was a clump of black hair in his hands.

"The hell?" frantically he ran his fingers through his prized hair and more of it came out, sometimes just in strands and other times in clumps.

Swallowing heavily, Damon was too afraid to rinse his hair yet he did. He tried to trick himself into believing that was only water rushing down his back and not all of his hair. Shutting off the water, he hastily climbed out of the shower, reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

The mirror over the sink was foggy and he quickly wiped it off. Damon's eyes widened when he noticed he had patches of hair missing, but not only that there were angry looking red and blue veins and welts racing along his scalp. His eyes dropped to examine his face and what stared back at him was not an eternal stud but a man flirting with his early sixties. The few lines he had permanently etched on his face were much more pronounced. His cheeks sagged giving him the decided appearance of the aged. His skin looked leathery and as he touched it, it felt leathery as well.

Suddenly there was a copper taste in his mouth. Damon was all too familiar with that taste. He opened his mouth and noticed that his gums and the spaces between his teeth were bleeding. He wiggled a tooth experimentally and said tooth fell out and landed in the sink.

"Fuck," he swore and then more teeth began to fall until he was missing nearly all of his front teeth and two at the bottom.

Damon was panicked now. Gone was the cool exterior. He heard the door to the hotel room open causing him to burst out of the bathroom.

Stefan's eyes were glued to the floor when he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind his entry. He didn't startle when Damon grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, but the minute his eyes landed on his brother's haggard appearance, Stefan's eyes widened and his jaw hit the floor.

"Damon, w-what's…"

"I don't know," Damon was almost near tears.

There were lot of ways and vices to beat him at his own game, but to mess with his looks was like the equivalent of Samson's hair being chopped off. Damon wouldn't label himself as being vain but it went without saying that he was good-looking and used that to his advantage. However, to see himself appearing as in extra in Michael Jackson's _Thriller_ video had him freaking the fuck out.

Both brothers were too bewildered and had no idea how to address this problem or knew where to start. Both vaguely knew that the inception of whatever was going on could be traced back to ending Bonnie's life. Consequences. For every action there was an adverse reaction. This was it.

Damon was a little, no _a lot _pissed off that Stefan still had his stellar good looks. He looked as fresh as a daisy and even with half moon dark circles under his eyes, he was still freakishly handsome. Damon was just a freak and he considered those odds to be exponentially unfair.

"Maybe you should sit down," Stefan suggested.

Damon balked. "That's all you have to say to me? Sit down. Is that a magical cure or some shit! _I LOOK LIKE THE FUCKING CRYPT KEEPER!_"

Stefan tried not to laugh because Damon was now speaking with a lisp like Daffy Duck, and Daffy Duck was always disgruntled about something.

"Damon we're going to figure this out but this is beyond either one of our scope of expertise. Just…tell me what happened after I left this morning."

Taking his brother's advice, Damon sat down and resisted burying his hands in what was left of his hair. "I got up feeling like I had a hangover. I took a shower, started washing my hair and it just came out in clumps."

Stefan rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the shampoo bottle. Stefan had used it this morning and he was just fine.

"And what else?" Stefan asked as he focused his eyes on the chemicals that were listed in the ingredients section on the back of the bottle. As if he knew what half of those substances were, he just needed to _do_ something.

"I went to check it out in the mirror, and I tasted blood in my mouth. The next thing I know…my teeth are falling out like tic tacs."

"I don't know how to explain this," Stefan muttered helplessly. This wasn't a problem that was easily fixable by driving a stake through it. The only person on the planet who might have been able to provide some insight was no longer with them, which collectively left them ass out.

"Could my life get any worse?" Damon questioned and as soon as he said it, the vision in his right eye completely vanished. He jolted off the bed and grabbed his eye. "No," he said and rushed back to the bathroom.

Stefan followed after him. "What's wrong?"

Damon blindly reached for the faucet and turned it on. Maybe he just had an eyelash lodged in his eye. "I can't see out of my right eye."

"Seriously?"

Damon growled and then doused his eye with tap water. After a few splashes he blinked to see if that might have been the cure for his temporary alignment. Slowly he opened his eyelid and was met with nothing but darkness.

"Shiiitttt! It didn't work!"

Stefan had to bite his lips to keep from saying: Did you really expect it to. Instead he looked at his brother's deteriorating face through the reflection in the mirror. The pupil of Damon's right eye was completely dilated that it reminded Stefan of a cat's eye.

"We should head back to the boardinghouse," Stefan rushed out of the bathroom and began to pack the very few belongings they had.

Fear cracked against Damon's spine like a bull whip. He didn't want to go anywhere near that house, yet what were his other options? No matter where he went it seemed this stretch of bad luck followed him. At least at the boardinghouse he could make himself as comfortable as possible. Provided nothing tried to infiltrate his mind and make him dig his own heart out of his chest again. And if he were dying at least he could do so at his lavish estate and not in some cheap motel room.

Suddenly Damon was very tired and lethargic. It took all of his strength and ability just to dress himself. He heard his bones popping, the joints filling with air and then cracking every time he bent his knees or flexed his elbows, or stretched his fingers. Was he coming down with rheumatoid arthritis? Because along with the popping there was fire dancing in between his bone and cartilage.

Stefan saw his brother struggling with putting his shoes on. Right before his very eyes Damon who had always been too full of life for his own good was becoming a card carrying member of the elderly society. More of his hair had fallen out and his skin was beginning to look scaly and was actually flaking off.

"I'm going to get you home and then try to find someone who can give us some answers on what's happening to you," Stefan promised.

Damon laughed but it sounded more like a wheeze. "No one is going to tell you anything especially if it's to help save my life."

Grim, Stefan knew it was the absolute truth, but he would try anyways.

He wrapped one arm around Damon's shoulders and together they left the hotel.

* * *

**Mystic Falls Police Station**

There seemed to have been an explosion of unsolvable crimes that began to plague the city. Liz wasn't sure how many calls she fielded, how many houses she visited where she saw nothing but death and carnage. Was there something in the drinking water? Was there a hallucinogen in the air? It was hard to believe that seemingly normal, everyday people would go off their rockers and start hacking their loved ones and themselves to pieces. Was this town built on an ancient Indian burial ground as clichéd as it sounded? Or did Mystic Falls reside on a hell mouth?

Taking a hit from her bottle of Mylanta, Liz wiped the excess away with her fingers, and tried to resume filling out another police report. Today she had been called to the apartment of twenty-three year old Jessica Jameson who slashed the throat of her neighbor's prized cat before turning the blade on herself. Jessica was now undergoing painstaking surgery to repair the damage she inflicted on her liver.

If people weren't delving into homicidal tendencies then they resorted to doing unspeakable horrors to themselves. And not only were adults being affected by whatever was going around, it was beginning to affect small children as well.

Liz shivered. She didn't want to think about the two small boys and what they did with straight razors.

"Hi, mom," Caroline greeted her mother, interrupting her thoughts.

Thankful for the distraction, Liz looked up at her only child. Caroline wasn't glowing and she wasn't beaming which she normally did. Her skin had almost a sickly pallor to it and her once blue animated eyes were flat.

Caroline placed the requested parcel down on the stack of papers in front of her mother. She remained standing and grew momentarily distracted by the flux of activity taking place in the precinct. To Caroline's ears it sounded as if she were standing in the middle of a beehive.

"Thank you for picking up my prescription. I would have done it myself but I've been glued to this desk all day."

"Whatever I can do to help," Caroline shrugged looking uncertain and distracted. Her mom never gave her specifics on the kinds of cases she was handling these days, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. And after listening to the story Karishna told her this afternoon, Caroline was surprised she hadn't slipped in a schizophrenic paranoia.

"I know you can't comment on ongoing investigations…but should we be worried?"

Liz shook her head and bit her lower lip. "I've considered moving in the middle of the night and changing our names. What does that tell you?"

Caroline sat down in the seat that was next to her mom's desk. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I have some information but I'm not sure how it'll help stop what's happening."

"And how did you obtain this information?" Liz surreptitiously looked around to make sure no one was paying them any attention.

"Klaus knows a witch who knows something about the much darker history of Mystic Falls. What's happening now is a result of something horrific that happened over three hundred years ago."

Feeling dread, Liz got up from her desk. "Walk with me."

Obediently, Caroline followed her mother to one of the interrogation rooms. Caroline's eyes darted around as she tried to spot the hidden camera. She could hear it as it adjusted its lens, but she couldn't set it.

The mother/daughter pair sat across from one another. "This is strictly off the record whatever it is you have to tell me," Liz cautioned her.

Caroline nodded and began telling her mom everything she learned. The minute she was finished, Liz was positively befuddled.

"So in other words, the only person who was capable of keeping everything on an even keel who is now deceased means we're basically screwed."

"Something like that, yeah."

"And this Karishna person says there's nothing she nor any other witch can do to combat what's going on?"

Caroline hunched a shoulder. "Believe me I spent a good twenty minutes throwing out suggestions and ideas and she shot them all down. Bonnie was the key to keeping the spirits appeased. So long as a Bennett witch is alive and able to protect the land, the spirits couldn't extract revenge. Now, all bets all off. And you have…" Caroline paused. Her mother still didn't know that Damon was the one responsible for murdering Bonnie.

Liz caught on to Caroline's hesitation. She might not be awarded any Mother of the Year awards but she knew enough about her child to ascertain when Caroline was attempting to keep something from her.

"What?" Liz prodded.

Pinching her lips, Caroline was uncertain if she should confess. But at this point would it really make any difference? The town in out of itself was about to implode.

"Are you still looking for Bonnie's killer?"

Liz nodded. "Her case is still open."

Caroline sighed heavily. "Consider it closed because D-Damon was the one who snapped Bonnie's neck."

Everything in Liz shutdown. She couldn't have heard Caroline correctly but seeing that devastated look on her daughter's face, Liz knew Caroline was telling the truth. Liz was shocked to her core. She likened the feeling to being thrown into a pool of bleach with her eyes open.

"Damon killed Bonnie? I d-don't understand. Why in hell would he do that?"

"He did it for Elena," Caroline said indolently. "Esther, Klaus' mom had bound all of her children's lives together with the intent of killing them. Elena told Elijah what his mom was planning on doing, so he kidnapped her and used her as bait to force Stefan and Damon to find someway to stop Esther. Esther had been siphoning power from Bonnie and Abby, their entire bloodline to fuel her own; and the only way to stop her was to break her connection to their power. That meant, Bonnie or Abby or both had to die or be turned. But what the Salvatore idiots didn't know was that Esther could channel power from living _and _dead Bennett's. Damon snapped Bonnie's neck like she was a dog on the street. "

Liz's heartburn flared up again as the contents in her stomach sloshed around making an interesting cocktail of hydrochloric acid and partially digested food. She felt it racing up her esophagus burning the lining until it all was seconds from spewing across the table and floor.

"That _bastard _has looked me in my eye for weeks and lied to me."

Caroline diplomatically kept her mouth shut. They all lied to her. They all knew who was responsible yet didn't breathe a word of it.

"I feel like such a fool," Liz lamented and reared her head back in a poor attempt to keep her tears from falling. "I remember trying to offer Stefan support but he knew all along that his brother was responsible for Bonnie's death." Liz spun to face her daughter, fury enraptured on her face. "Why didn't you tell me, Caroline!"

"Because I was going to kill Stefan and Damon myself."

That gave Liz pause. She knew her daughter was a vampire and sometimes it slipped her mind. But it was moments like this were she was brutally reminded that her daughter was no longer governed by the same rules and regulations Liz as a human had no choice but to follow.

"You were going to attempt to take on Damon and Stefan? Caroline, have you lost your mind? They are older than you, which means they are stronger than you."

"That's why I went to Klaus. Mom, I didn't go into this thinking that I'd be able to take them on all willy nilly and without backup or help. It was Klaus' idea to bring in a witch, but she can't help. And now we have a vengeful spirit problem on our hands with no way to stop it."

Liz had heard everything her daughter said but it still was taking a minute for it to compute. "Are you still planning on going after them?"

Caroline shook her head. "Bonnie…she reached out to me. She told me not to interfere because everything was being taken care of."

Liz chortled. "Bonnie told you this? Did you have some type of vision?"

"More like a visitation or a dream, I'm not really sure. But she told me not to get involved."

"Do you think she's behind what's been happening in the city?"

Caroline vehemently shook her head. "Bonnie would _never _hurt innocent people."

Liz looked doubtful. "Are you sure because…the way in which she was killed, hell executed don't you think that would have built up some resentment? And she'd lash out anyway she could?"

"If you think that way then you really don't know Bonnie. Once she found out she was a witch she worked overtime to make sure no one innocent got hurt. Hell she set Damon on fire after I…"

Liz's eyebrow went up in the air. That was Caroline's second hesitation. "Care…did you…have you ever…"

Twisting her fingers, Caroline slowly nodded her head.

"Oh my God!" Liz wailed.

"I didn't mean too!"

Liz held her hands up. "This is too much. Too much," she muttered and headed towards the door. "I need a minute."

* * *

Whatever Damon's condition was, it had worsened, by the hour it seemed. Stefan had no idea what to do so he consulted the only person who might be able to point him in the right direction.

Stefan had promised himself he wouldn't ask another thing of Klaus ever again, nor would he step foot on the man's property, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Stefan was all out of options.

Surprisingly Klaus was home and he wasn't alone. He quickly explained the situation and showed digital evidence of what was happening to his brother.

Karishna had stared at the image of Damon on Stefan's cell phone. Whoever the witch was, she or he certainly was gifted.

"It's a withering spell," Karishna told him.

"And that is?" Stefan asked a bit testily.

"You employ or enslave, depending on the vernacular a witch's service on the regular yet you know nothing about the craft," Karishna sat her eyes on Klaus. "You surround yourself with such amateurs, Klaus you should feel embarrassed," Karishna chided the original vampire turned hybrid.

Klaus could say very little in defense of himself.

"In essence your brother is aging at a rapid pace, and he'll continue to do so until he's nothing more than a blind, deaf, and barely cognizant vampire. He won't die. He'll continue to age this way, and then the process will slow, to excruciatingly levels."

To Stefan, Karishna almost looked gleeful.

"Is there anyway to reverse this?"

Karishna shook her head. "This spell is very specific. The only one who can reverse it is the one who cast it. Sorry, bloke, but there's nothing that can be done for him unless of course you find the witch responsible and then you grovel like hell."

Karishna collected her purse and rose from the sofa. "I have a plane to catch, darling," she said to Klaus. "Not so sorry that I couldn't be of more assistance to you."

Stefan watched, dejected, as Karishna left taking with her any possible way of saving his brother. The irony that he was placed into another situation where he'd have to move heaven and earth to save his ungrateful brother was not lost on Stefan. Perhaps this was his consequence, he thought.

* * *

The next time Caroline saw her mom was when she walked through the door of their house. She had attempted to cook and only managed to burn half of the lasagna while the other half remained frozen. The pizza she ordered should be arriving any minute now.

Liz hung up her gun and rubbed the back of her neck. The day had been long and she felt thoroughly exhausted and wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a lobotomy.

Her daughter was a killer. Someone she considered an ally killed a girl who was almost like a daughter to her. Liz didn't know what to do with those revelations. If she went to the council they would set their sights on Caroline and go after her or worse they would expect Liz to lead the raid. As a mother she had a duty to protect her child, but as a law enforcement officer and council member she had a duty to protect her town.

Her hands were tied and she didn't know what to do.

Caroline hovered in the hallway. "Hi, mom."

Liz's head shot up. She sighed heavily and then frowned. "Did you burn something?"

If Caroline still had the ability to blush, her cheeks would have been red. "I tried to cook dinner," she explained in that raspy voice of hers. "It didn't turn out so well. But pizza is on the way in case you're hungry."

"After the day I've had, anything containing marinara sauce is the_ last_ thing I want to eat," Liz dumped her body on the couch and then slipped out of her police issued shoes. She wiggled her toes against the carpet.

Tentatively Caroline took a seat next to her mom. They were quiet for a while. "I know I dumped a lot on you this afternoon."

Liz held up a hand. "This wasn't supposed to be our life, Caroline. We've had our problems in the past, and I was able to get over it…I know you never asked to become a vampire. And sure it might have been naïve on my part to think that you would never kill anyone, but…I can't get my mind wrapped around it. Then to find out Damon was behind Bonnie's murder. I should have seen it and maybe subconsciously I knew he was responsible, but I was hoping there was something in him that was still decent."

Caroline stared at her hands and spoke quietly. "We all did and that was probably our mistake. Damon destroys whatever he touches. Why Elena would keep someone like him in her life…I'll never understand it."

"So where do we go from here?" Liz questioned and looked at her child.

"I was hoping you would tell me."

Liz smiled sadly. "I guess I'll go to the council about Damon."

"And Stefan?"

Liz sighed heavily. "And Stefan."

"Or maybe we could just wait and see what Bonnie is going to do."

Even after all the horrors she's seen in the last few days, Liz wasn't so ready to jump on the bandwagon of ghosts seeking retribution. She rose from the couch intent to get lost in her bedroom.

"Until that happens, I have protocol to follow. Let me know when the pizza arrives."

* * *

The Salvatore boardinghouse was a beautiful piece of architecture, there had been no denying that. It was stacked with relics from past centuries that it felt more like a museum than a house where two people lived. Although Katherine wouldn't necessarily refer to Damon and Stefan as people.

They had been human once, just like her. Katherine tricked her way into becoming immortal. Once she learned that she was to be used as a sacrifice to break a curse, she picked up her skirts and booked it. Using her feminine wiles had gotten her out of Klaus' grasp, but then she ended up running and hiding for five hundred years, unable to make roots anywhere she decided to settle.

Mystic Falls had its appeal. In the beginning. Yet the minute she learned the inhabitants held a special disdain for her kind, and actually carried out a plan to round her up, she was on the move once again.

Damon and Stefan certainly didn't know how good they had it. Not when they were human, and certainly not after they became vampires. They had an arsenal of people at their disposal to do their bidding to where they seldom had to get their hands dirty or make enemies. Yet they found every opportunity imaginable to screw everything up. Royally. All of her sympathy, if she really had any to begin with was gone.

Climbing the stairs one at a time, her fingertips running up along the wood railing, Katherine made her way to Damon's room. Laying her hand flat on the door she pushed it open. The curtains were drawn open allowing daylight to filter into the room. Her whiskey-colored eyes shifted to the lump formation hidden under the white duvet in the middle of the bed.

Katherine came to a stop at the foot of the bed, her head tilted as if that might improve the sight she was seeing. It did little to change or alter the picture. Slowly her lips tugged going off in separate directions until an ear-to-ear grin overtook her face.

"Poor, Damon," she intoned and then walked to the side of the bed to get a closer look.

Damon's skin was scaly, ghost-white, all of the veins in his body were visible under his skin. His eyes had the opaque appearance of someone with cataracts. Faded into an eerie white. His weight took a dramatic nose dive that he favored someone battling with anorexia. And the biggest shocker to her eyes was the fact he was completely bald.

Her eyes lowered to his hand. His day walking ring clung loosely to his bony finger. If she didn't know it was Damon, she would have thought she was staring at hundred and seventy year old man.

Katherine leaned over him, her long mahogany hair brushed against his cheek. Damon didn't even respond to the touch and Katherine wondered if he knew she was even standing in the room.

"Damon?"

His eyelids closed and it took a second or two before they reopened. His shriveled lips smacked together yet he didn't utter a single word.

Straightening to her full height, Katherine placed a hand on his chest. She could easily crush his ribs because his bones felt hollow as if they were made out of nothing more substantial than paper, but she wasn't in the mood to put him out of his misery.

"What are you doing here, Katherine?" Stefan walked into the room, and glared at her.

She looked at him over her shoulder and offered him a dazzling smile. "I just wanted to check on my two favorite boys." Katherine returned her attention to Damon. "What's happening to him?"

"I should be asking you that. Damon was perfectly fine until you showed up."

"As much as I would like to take the credit for this, sorry I can't," Katherine sighed and removed her hand from Damon's bird chest. He was so emaciated that Katherine felt the stirrings of sympathy for him.

Stefan shuffled his feet along the floor and stood beside Katherine. The both of them stared down at Damon. Shaking his head, Stefan dropped his eyes to his shoes. It hurt to see his brother like this. Weak. Defenseless. Practically a living corpse. And it all happened in less than forty-eight hours.

"It's a withering spell," Stefan confessed after a lengthy pause. "He's basically going to age like this for the rest of his life, become a vegetable in his own body. And unless I find the witch who did this to him, there's no reversing it."

"You have options, Stefan."

He snorted. "Like drive a stake through his heart?"

Katherine remained mute. Other than death there was nothing that could be done for Damon. "Is he eating?"

"That's about the only thing he can do. Although he only manages to drink a few sips. He gets tired easily. I know he's in misery but…he's lost his ability to talk. And I think he might have Alzheimer's; he doesn't recognize anything."

"Hmm, can you give me a few minutes alone with him? There're something's I want to tell him before I leave. For good."

Stefan didn't want to honor Katherine's request because there was a fierce need in him to protect Damon from anymore hurt, harm, and danger. Yet he remembered that after he stopped Damon from killing Klaus the night of the homecoming party, that Katherine finally admitted that she loved Damon. Even if her way of loving him had been toxic, at least she hadn't toyed with Damon explicitly for her own amusement.

That being said, he would give Katherine space to say what she needed to say.

Stefan got missing and left the boardinghouse altogether. He didn't want to hear Katherine's final goodbye to Damon. It would only serve to make this dire situation even more real that he was losing his brother and there was little he could do to stop it.

Katherine took a seat on the edge of the bed and examined him for a moment before speaking. To her eyes, he really was a living corpse.

"I want to tell you a story, Damon. This story is about a little girl who grew up in a small town where her life used to be ordinary. She had a grandmother who she loved to distraction and two best friends she would go to hell and back for. And then one day, a nightmare arrived and changed everything. Her best friend fell in love with a monster and then caught feelings for the monster's brother who was an even bigger atrocity than he was. Yet this small town girl grew to trust those two monsters against her better judgment because her best friend couldn't seem to stay out of trouble. And they all needed to pool their resources together in order to save her.

"Then…one day out of the clear blue it seemed, those two monsters turned on the girl who risked her life every time she did a little magic to save them, her friends and her poor, sleepy small town. But this little girl warned one of the monsters what would happen to him if he spilled so much a drop of innocent blood."

Katherine leaned forward capturing Damon's eyes. She saw a flicker of recognition behind those rheumy orbs of his before it vanished.

"I told you, Damon that I would take you out," a wicked smile appeared on her face. "I'm sure you didn't think I would go this route to prove my point, did you? But I've learned that you only learn things the hard way."

Damon's paper thin lips moved and Katherine could barely make out the one word he was able to utter.

"What was that?" Katherine cupped her ear.

"…katherine…"

The woman in question leaned back and then stood up from the bed. "No, not it's Katherine. It's _Bonnie,_" she nearly growled.

Damon's eyes enlarged.

"You've caused so much pain and suffering and yet you still live. Death is too merciful for someone like you, Damon. So I thought why not strip you of your looks, your strength, the ability to defend yourself, isolate you from the world where you can _never _harm another person ever again. This is much more poetic, wouldn't you agree?"

Damon's mouth open and closed. A tear ran from the corner of his eye and landed on the pillow under his head.

"What's happening to you now…is only the beginning."

Damon's frail chest began moving rapidly up and down. His eyes shifted from left to right probably searching for Stefan.

"Well, I have a _very _important errand to run. I have to see a groundskeeper about digging up a body. Sleep tight, because_ I_ will be seeing you very soon," she winked and then strutted out of the boardinghouse.

* * *

Elijah had no idea why he was giving an audience to Katerina Petrova. They were not the best of friends, associates, or even cordial to one another. In fact, the last time he laid eyes on her had been when he compelled her to remain in the tomb. She had betrayed his family over five hundred years ago and for that she deserved sudden death, however, that was a history that had no bearing now because in the end, everything had been a moot point.

That being said, he couldn't help his natural curiosity to know what new foolery Katherine had decided to cook up and what role she expected him to play in it. His time as of late had been spent redeeming himself for the horrible mistake he made in bartering one girl's life over another. Elijah didn't regret much despite the fact most of the acts he's committed against his own kind and humans were heinous, yet he regretted betraying Bonnie and Elena in the way he did.

They were but mere babes in the world and for him to pit the value of their lives against the other, was despicable. Elijah hated men like that and because he merely wanted to survive he became the very thing he despised. His family was broken, shattered. Nothing was ever going to repair the damage lies and betrayal had done over the course of ten centuries. It would be best if he cut his losses and branched out on his own for good and no longer worry himself with cleaning up the mess of his siblings.

Yet old habits were hard to perish, and Elijah was an advocate for duty and honor.

Buttoning the middle button of his blazer, Elijah stuck one hand in his pocket and strolled to the warehouse Katherine implored him to meet her. He was unfamiliar with this part of town but knew it was isolated enough if one were about to do something illicit. Knowing Katherine that's the only business she knew how to conduct.

Pulling the heavy sliding door open, Elijah walked into what he could only describe as a storage unit. A dark brown eyebrow arched as he stared at the silver casket that was resting upon a dais. Katherine stood off to the side, arms folded across her chest. She pushed away from the wall and headed over to the casket.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"I don't understand, Katerina. What is the meaning of all of this? Whose coffin is that?"

"A man of your caliber should be able to figure out who's lying in this box."

Elijah's bottom jaw fell. "You're planning to do a resurrection, Katherine?"

No answer came. Elijah watched as Katherine opened the hood of the coffin. Part of him instantly wanted to look away but he didn't. A hard lump formed in the middle of his throat as he stared at the body in the coffin.

A small gasped emitted from between his lips. It was Bonnie yet her body hadn't decomposed. She had been dead and gone for eight weeks. Even with the wonders of embalming fluid she should have resembled a skeleton with leathery skin but she was absolutely perfect. Untouched. Flawless.

He couldn't believe it.

"I had to do this. This was the only way to save myself," 'Katherine' looked at Elijah. "I called you here because I need you to compel Katherine. I don't want her to remember that I used her body, and I don't want her coming back to Mystic Falls ever again."

It took a minute for Elijah to process what Katherine was telling him. His eyes blinked rapidly. "I'm not following." He pointed at Katherine. "You're not Katherine?"

"No."

Then he pointed at Bonnie's body. "The _real_ Katherine is in that body?"

"Yes. She's been preserving it for me, while I've been walking around in her meat suit. I can explain things after I switch back but I have to hurry and reverse the spell. It's been going on long enough and seriously bad things are happening in Mystic Falls. So will you do it? Compel her? Besides, you owe _me_."

"Just so I'm clear…you're Bonnie which means you never really died."

'Katherine' nodded. "I'm Bonnie and I wasn't about to let myself get killed. What's your answer, Elijah?"

The man in question looked down at his polished shoes and smiled in disbelief. "For weeks I've been looking for a way to atone for my part in your demise, Bonnie," he confessed yet calling Katherine Bonnie was more than strange. Elijah felt as if he were having an outer body experience. He looked back into those whiskey-eyes. "Yes, I'll do it. You have my word."

"Good. Then I'll see you in twenty minutes."

Chapter end.

**A/N: Who saw that coming? Bonnie in Katherine's body. Yes, it was planned from the beginning. Sorry to put you guys through the emotional ringer but I needed you to _believe_ it. I will go into more detail on how that unfolded in upcoming chapters. It was never made clear if Liz knew that Caroline has killed. I know she saw her take out one of the deputies, but then she was compelled to forget (?) so for the sake of this story, Liz doesn't know about Caroline's homicidal past. I had a tough time trying to describe what Damon looks like. If you've seen the move The Covenant and the part where Caleb introduces Sarah to his dad, yeah, that dude is who I picture Damon resembling. And I'm not completely satisfied with the slave revenge story and everything wrapped up in that. I may make changes later, I'll let you know. Now the official 'Femme Fatale' part of this is set to begin. I already know how this baby is going to end yet I had doubts, but after watching the promo for the first episode of S4, all abroad the night train! I'm rolling full steam ahead with this. All right kids, off to bed I go. Love you! Oh, and no this isn't ending next chapter. **


	7. Part VII

**A/N: Hi everyone. I finally had some downtime to write and this is what I came up with. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters (except my OC's) are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

The little splotches of blood seemed to multiply in the palms of her hands. Uncurling her fingers to confirm her suspicions, she gasped sharply. She couldn't get control of her breathing or her elevated heart rate. Her hands shook as she fumbled with inserting the key in the lock to find sanctuary in her home.

Constantly she checked over her shoulder, expecting someone. A man dressed in dark blue carrying a silver badge saying she'd have to come with him for questioning. Finally the lock gave way as she thrust the door shut and went upstairs.

She was grateful for the darkness. It was easier to melt in the shadows and to move about undetected. Her eyes were wide open as they tried to adjust to the night. Not a single light was turned on, which was just fine by her. She couldn't be caught looking like this. Not by anyone. A few moments later she locked herself in her bedroom. She didn't bother to look around her room to make sure nothing was out of place or had given away her activities of the last few hours. Instead, she rushed to the bathroom, switched on the light, but soon turned it off.

It was too bright.

Instead she lit a single candle, turned on the bathtub faucet and stripped out of her soiled jeans and T-shirt. Discarding her undergarments with it, she stepped into the water. She had forgotten to turn on the cold water and what awaited her would have surely melted off her skin. But she didn't care. She held in her cries as the scolding hot water pricked her skin. Biting her bottom lip until her teeth chattered, she sank until she was fully submerged.

She shut off the water once it reached her shoulders. Her breath rippled the top as steam covered her in a halo. The mirror was foggy, a haze engulfed the room as she sat for a while—thinking. She brought her hands out of the water, water that was now a very pale pink. They were still stained with blood and her skin was a flaming red because of the water. Grabbing the sponge and a bottle of body wash, she began to scrub maddeningly.

Her movements were feverish as she cleaned herself again and again and again until miraculously the water had grown cold. She stepped out, grabbed a towel, dried herself, and went back into her room.

With her hair still dripping wet due to washing it several times, she dressed in a short loose nightgown and climbed into bed. She hugged her knees to her chest, something she hadn't done since she was a little girl. Unconsciously she bit her nails as she blocked out the images that assaulted her, pricked her like needles. A groan tried to climb out of her throat but she forced it back down. A tear fell and then another and soon her cheeks were flooded as mucus covered her top lip.

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe she killed Elena Gilbert tonight.

Twenty-eight hours earlier…

Paige Summers wouldn't consider herself extraordinary. She was the middle child of four siblings, hailed from a two parent household, and pretty much knew and socialized with the same people since birth. She could count on her fingers and toes the many unrequited crushes she's had in her eighteen years of life and yes they far outnumbered actual boyfriends. Paige didn't have movie starlet good looks, but she was attractive—pretty enough to be arm candy if a guy could look past her freckled cheeks, frazzled strawberry blonde hair, too large pale green eyes, and her small lips. She was built differently from the other girls—towered over everyone by a good foot it seemed. Most guys that she knew considered her a little sister, one of the guys, and it was a title she fought tooth and nail to get rid of since the start of puberty.

Paige like many was well aware of the strange happenings that took place in her sleepy town. It was hard to miss or ignore the number of dead bodies that dropped like flies especially during Founder's events. She wouldn't haul off and say Mystic Falls was cursed, but after recent events, Paige was beginning to form that theory.

She didn't know what started it and she didn't know if the sheriff's department was handling it. Quite a few times she saw Sheriff Forbes and Mayor Lockwood locked in heated battles, although their words never carried louder than a brusque whisper. Paige understood body language and from what she could tell, the two women were at their wits end with each other and all the unexplainable shit that happened around town.

Paige occupied a booth in Mystic Grill enjoying her chocolate milkshake. Something she knew she shouldn't have ordered. She had been trying to lose weight for prom and it seemed for all the exercising, and counting calories she had been doing, instead of losing she had gained three pounds. Didn't seem fair when she thought about it, but then her grandmother had a tendency to refer to her as being "big-boned".

What was she a dinosaur?

For months she had been trying to strike up the courage to ask Matt Donovan to prom. Paige knew he was single, had ended his relationship with Caroline Forbes (the rebound girl in her opinion) a while back, and that he wasn't seriously seeing or dating anyone. Still it didn't make it any easier to approach him. Without fail Paige knew where to find him considering Matt was always at work, and if he wasn't at work she saw him walking along the halls of Mystic Falls High. Paige wouldn't label them as being friends. Matt was invariably cordial if their paths did cross in the halls, but he never went out of his way to say more to her, and Paige certainly never went out on a limb to introduce herself.

She sighed as she watched Matt clean tables with an efficiency he had gotten increasingly good at. Whatever exercise plan he had been on certainly had paid off. His shirts either shrunk in the wash or he simply filled them out better due to gaining nothing but muscle mass, Paige was not one to complain. Matt was the typical guy-next-door. He wasn't over the top or flashy. He was low key, like her and it was a trait she deeply appreciated.

Life was all about risks and Paige had made a promise with herself that she would graduate high school with no regrets.

Smoothing her hands down her best jeans and T-shirt her measly allowance could buy, Paige gripped the edge of the table prepared to slide out of the booth when she stopped.

Elena Gilbert sailed into the restaurant and it seemed all activity came to an abrupt end. Paige watched as Elena surreptitiously looked around thinking that all conversations buzzing in the room had been about her. Paige really couldn't answer one way or another. She didn't move a muscle as the girl made a beeline towards Matt.

Paige avoided girls like Elena. Not saying she was a mean girl, or a Queen Bitch, but she was Miss Popularity simply because she was sweet and stunning to the eyes—male eyes that is. To Paige, Elena never had to work hard at attracting male attention. Never had to embellish features that weren't there by caking on pounds of makeup, or wearing padded bras, or getting her hair naturally curly hair chemically straightened. Elena had been hit with a pretty stick and even if she came down with an incurable case of chronic acne, Paige was certain boys would still line up in droves to take her out.

In her head Paige began to run through Elena's love history. She didn't know why but she felt it necessary to calculate the number of suitors the brunette had. There had been Matt. The two of them started dating at the end of their freshman year yet she broke things off with him towards the end of her sophomore year. There was Stefan Salvatore, but Paige hadn't seen him around lately, but when he was around he followed Elena like he was her shadow.

And of course there was Stefan's older brother Damon. If those three thought they were fooling anyone then they were seriously misinformed. Paige had been a witness to the many "quiet" conversations Elena and Damon had when they were at the Grill or a school function. Paige really couldn't understand why a guy like Damon would be interested in a girl who was still in high school. Okay sure, on her worst day Elena looked like a supermodel, but she had been dating his little brother which automatically made her off limits.

Yet things turned fishy to Paige. She recalled watching Damon and Elena dance first at the Ms. Mystic Falls pageant—there had been definite fireworks and tension between them. And then again at the Mikaelson ball. Yep, Paige had been a witness to it all. She couldn't help but gawk as Elena walked with her arms clasped in both the Salvatore brothers' arms as if it were the most normal and natural thing in the world. Seriously were they having a threesome? Was Elena into gangbangs, having a train run on her?

Girls who had heads on their shoulders didn't get involved with siblings. Paige could never be accused of being a debutante or knowing what proper etiquette was, but she knew that screwing family members made a girl the lowest of the low. Hussy. Slut. Tramp. Scallywag. If the shoe fits wear it.

There was a part of her that said it wasn't right to judge just based off the pieces she saw, yet when she put them together in her head, things made perfect sense. Elena had gotten entangled in a sibling love triangle and was clueless on how to escape. Paige could pity her but at the end of the day she didn't.

Her eyes remained glued as Elena and Matt exchanged pleasantries. Paige got a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that for all his bravado, Matt might not be totally over Elena.

Mystic Grill was packed. Almost everyone she knew was there which was making being here just that much harder. Tyler and Caroline were hugged up near the pool tables, watching Jeremy while he took a shot. She had never really known those three to hang out, but since the funeral they had become virtual peas in a pod. Elena tried not to feel left out, but it was difficult because her phone no longer rang with invites to parties or just to hang out. It was like her friends forgot her existence in entirety.

Could she really blame them since she vacated their lives eons ago?

However, the only person who persistently called was Stefan. He called everyday, several times in the day the first two weeks after Bonnie was laid to rest. Elena had ignored him, routed all his calls to voicemail and then promptly deleted them without listening to them. She blocked his ability to text her and twice she was sure he stood outside of her house, staring up at her bedroom window. She didn't know what he wanted, but she could really careless.

After her confrontation with Damon, Elena didn't feel any of the weight on her shoulders had been removed. If anything it tripled in girth, added even more pressure. She tried to brush off what Damon said as him lashing out because his feelings were hurt, although they had no reason to be. However, Elena knew that wasn't accurate. What Damon said to her was the biting truth. It opened her eyes to the lousy person she had become while she toyed in the valley of indecision on which Salvatore brother she should take a chance on.

Elena had no idea how she had gotten so far off track. Her life used to have a directive. She knew what she wanted to study in college, what she wanted to be when she grew up, and where she wanted to live. When she made decisions they were always absolute; she hardly ever changed her mind or changed it again.

Yet all that backbone went out the window the minute a pair of sky-blue eyes caught and held her attention, consuming her ability to think like a rational and independent being.

Her life was no longer fun and games. People died around her. Dropped like flies and she was the epicenter to so much blood being shed.

It had become impossible for her to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Nevertheless, she wanted answers. It had bugged her, the night Bonnie died because she wasn't given any details outside of what Sheriff Forbes had discovered. Elena knew who did the deed, but she wanted to know _how _it happened. Stefan confessed to being the last person to speak to Bonnie, but he never coughed up details on what was said between them.

So that was the only reason why she agreed to speak with him. Yes, her actions felt traitorous since it had become the unspoken rule that everyone would cut all ties with the Salvatore's. Elena would, for good, after she heard from Stefan about what happened.

Caroline sensed him the minute he entered the building. She turned a bit, looking over her shoulder and saw an almost emaciated Stefan Salvatore enter the premises. She watched with narrowed eyes as he slid into a booth across from Elena. My God did that chick have any loyalty? Bonnie was dead, her best fucking friend and here she was about to break bread with her attempted murderer!

The pool stick in Caroline's possession snapped like a twig capturing Tyler's attention.

"What is it?" he asked, dark eyes darting all over the place until they landed on Stefan. "That sonofabitch. What's he doing here?"

Jeremy perked up and directed his attention to where Caroline and Tyler were glowering. He cursed and snapped his pool stick right across his knee. He eyed the makeshift stake and wondered if he could getaway with killing Stefan right here in this crowded place.

Stefan could feel heat-filled eyes on him from across the room. He would be dead if a gaze had the power to kill someone.

He did his level best to ignore it, glad for the opportunity to explain to Elena what happened that night, since she wasn't interested in talking to him about anything else.

"Make this quick," she told him knowing the firing squad would pounce when they had an opening.

"We should do this at your house."

Elena shook her head. "If I could rescind your invitation I would. We do this here."

Stefan licked his lips ready to speak but was interrupted by a looming Caroline—nostrils blazing. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she began without preamble.

Stefan gritted his teeth. He didn't mind explaining himself to Elena but anyone else… "Hello, Caroline," he said pleasantly enough.

"Hello my ass. You have a lot of nerve still being in this town after the shit you and that asshole brother of yours have done. _Leave_."

Elena looked between the two immortals. "Stefan was going to explain about what happened…that night."

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. She quickly sat down, pushing Elena to the other end of the booth. "Spill it," she commanded.

Stefan dropped his eyes to the table. The back of his neck was tightening and getting hot. His throat was parched but it wasn't water he wanted but blood. He knew he owed Caroline an explanation just as much as he owed Elena. Bonnie had been her best friend as well.

Caroline was seething! She was livid! She couldn't believe Elena would arrange a meeting with Stefan—even if it was so he could lie his way out of an ugly situation—but to not tell _her _was a slap to the face.

Stefan strummed his fingers along the smooth top of the table. He didn't really know where to begin, or how to explain what happened although it would be in his best interest to just start from the beginning and then ease his way into what was currently going on with his brother. Stefan wouldn't tell the girls about Damon's condition for sympathy points, but maybe as a warning for what could potentially happen to all of them.

He kept his eyes locked on a point over Elena's head. It was hard being this close to her but feeling the mountain that was between them. Being on the outs with her was nothing new, but Stefan was well aware of the fact there would be absolutely no reconciliation between them.

Stefan cleared his throat. "That night, after Elijah gave us the ultimatum, Damon and I drove to the old witch mansion. We knew that the only way to break Esther's ability to channel Bonnie and Abby was if one of them were dead. Since neither Damon nor I wanted to be the one to do it, we flipped a coin."

Appalled, Caroline slapped her hands on the table nearly splintering it in half. "You're fucking me with right? You flipped a gotdamn coin!"

"Shush!" Elena looked around to make sure that Caroline hadn't drawn attention to this conference.

Enraged eyes scolded Elena. "Don't you fucking shush me, Elena! You know what, I've heard enough. You need to leave, Stefan, _now _while I'm being generous. How could you?" she asked despite her earlier command for him to get missing.

Stefan's sorrow filled eyes dropped to the table. "I didn't want to do it…" he mumbled weakly. "I was supposed to do it, but Damon he…and I…"

"Just watched like a gotdamn coward, you gotdamn bastard!" Caroline yelled. She wanted to _hurt_ Stefan, she was going to _kill_ Stefan but she saw her mom approaching out the corner of her eye.

Although she night not be able to cleave his head off with a single blow like an Original, there was something she could do.

Stefan's nuts meet Caroline's foot.

She watched in pure satisfaction as Stefan groaned, bent over the table as a hand slipped to his jeans to cup his balls. Caroline followed it up with another kick, this time crushing his hand in the process. Stefan could taste his hopes and dreams.

"Is everything all right over here?" Sheriff Forbes asked, placing her hand on her utility belt.

Caroline beamed up at her mom. "Sure is."

Stefan was rendered speechless. A single tear leaked from the corner of his eye.

"Stefan…I need to speak with you," Sheriff Forbes said. This was a conversation that was long overdue.

After breathing in deeply, Stefan sat up against the booth, stomping down the pair zinging in his scrotum. "Can it wait, Sheriff Forbes? I have to get back to…I have to go home."

"I can follow you there since I need to speak with Damon as well."

"Mom," Caroline said cautiously. She didn't like the idea of her mom being alone with Damon and Stefan.

Liz held up a hand towards her daughter. "I'll be all right, Caroline."

Stefan climbed out of the booth. Perhaps the Sheriff should see Damon with her own eyes to know he was no longer a threat to anyone. The two of them made their way outside.

Caroline flashed over to Tyler and Jeremy and began speaking a mile a minute.

Elena stared at them for a minute and decided not to get involved. Things always went to shit when she tried to add in her two cents. Essentially she got what she came for, not that knowing more details about that night changed anything for her.

Climbing out of the booth, Elena quickly left the restaurant. She fumbled with her keys, dropped them twice on the ground before tearing the door open. Her eyes were quickly filling with tears but she furiously wiped at her eyes, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot.

Paige couldn't understand what came over her as she sat and watched the exchange that happened between Elena, Caroline, and Stefan. She couldn't hear what they had been arguing about, but there was no mistaking the fact that Caroline was outraged while Elena sat like a deer stuck in headlights. Caroline's mom, the sheriff walked over to diffuse the situation and Elena took that as her cue to go.

Paige had taken it as her cue to leave as well.

Elena took the familiar route to her house. She had been living like a virtual hermit and she saw no need to change it. Besides, any time she stepped foot in society Elena couldn't escape feeling as if everyone was staring at her with accusatory eyes. In their stares she saw judgment. She saw the blame and the anger that things weren't right in Mystic Falls, hadn't been for quite sometime, and she was the ringleader of it all.

Coming up on a sharp curve, Elena slowed her speed. Did knowing what happened to Bonnie make it any easier to accept the truth that the man she loved had a hand in her best friend's death? No. Elena thought back to when Stefan first came to town. She had been bitten by the smitten bug almost instantaneously. He was unlike anyone she had met in her life before. Even before she found out he was a vampire, Elena always got the sense that Stefan wasn't from her time. He spoke with a gentle eloquence she didn't think any seventeen year old guy was capable of, and he had superb manners, again not something she was used to.

And because she had been so taken by him and even the mystery he cloaked himself in, Elena wanted Bonnie and Stefan to hit off. Something happened between them that made Bonnie skittish, but she put it aside and opened up a little towards Stefan and gave him her stamp of approval. Bonnie's opinion, next to her mom's was the most important opinion to Elena. She wasn't sure what she would have done if Bonnie outright hated Stefan without cause.

But those days were long over. They were gone. Bonnie placed her trust in Stefan and he stood there and did nothing while his brother murdered her—premeditatedly at that—and what exactly did he expect from her?

Forgiveness?

There was no way in this world or the next that could make Elena forgive or forget what he did. And if that's what he had been expecting he was going to be disappointed. It was bad enough that Elena gave Damon a pass after his double rejection and he decided to take his anger out on Jeremy and snapped his neck. He killed her brother just seconds after trying to get her to admit that something was going on between them. Damon had been a little delusional from the start if he thought she was some flighty girl who would automatically give up a great guy like Stefan and run off into the sunset with him. But Elena being Elena gave Damon the benefit of the doubt, chance after chance, and every single time she forgave him for one unforgivable deed after another, he would turn around and do something even more atrocious.

A dark thought passed through Elena just then. What if, at the end of the day, she was no better than Damon? Any other girl would have cut Damon completely out of her life after he one) forced his blood into her and threatened to turn her into a vampire. Two) bit her friend right in front of her. Three) killed her brother right in front of her. Four) used her other best friend as his own personal blood bag and sex slave. Not to mention the other people he killed simply because he could: Lexi, Mason, Bree, John (although he came back because of his ring), Zach, her mom (turned her into a vampire—but that still makes her dead), Alaric (same as John). After all of that…she still kissed him. She still cared for him.

"Why, Elena?" she asked herself aloud but didn't anticipate she'd hear an answer. Mentally she was just as messed up, if not more, than Damon.

Tears lined her eyes. She was pathetic.

Elena began to question what was so special about her to make people go out of their way to keep her alive. When she attempted to sacrifice herself to Klaus to protect the ones she loved, Bonnie, Stefan, Damon, Jeremy, Alaric, and Elijah tried to find every way imaginable to keep her safe. Bonnie was willing to go so far as to use all of her magic, potentially die, in order to save her life.

She chortled derisively. Bonnie might not have gone on the sacrificial altar that night, but months later, her vow had been put to the ultimate test.

More tears gushed down her face.

For weeks she had done nothing outside of mope around and cry. Jeremy barely talked to her. Caroline had been off doing her thing, and the rest of Elena's friends and associates pretty much kept their distance from her. It was awkward walking down the halls at school and seeing people giving her major side-eye wondering if whatever was attached to her would it rub off on them, and would people around them start to show up dead. This stigma that was attached her Elena already knew it wouldn't be going anywhere, anytime soon.

"Argggghhh," she screamed, slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel in the opposite direction so she wouldn't hit the innocent deer that was standing in the middle of the road.

Her truck skidded to a stop, her heart racing, hair flying, as prepared herself for the inevitable crash. Finally, after what seemed like a horrendous hour, the truck was now stretched across the two-lane road, idling, as the deer merely continued to stare at her wondering if she was going to get out of _its _way.

Breathing harshly through her parted lips, Elena stared at the deer and wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Was it…was it staring at her in judgment? A shiver crawled down her spine as bile filled the back of her throat. Now it seemed wildlife was out to get her, too.

Just as Elena took her foot off the brake to hit the gas, something slammed into the side of her truck.

She went spiraling. Screams filled the cabin. Her hands were no longer clutching the wheel, but were lifted and pressing against the roof. The truck rolled down the embankment before being impaled on a large fir tree. It set her teeth of edge—the impact. Glass shattered and she felt it slice into her skin. The seatbelt pulled tightly against her chest and took her breath away. Something heavy landed across her lap.

Elena looked around and saw nothing but green, prickly needles. They were everywhere and surrounded everything. Reaching for the seatbelt, Elena tried to unlatch it, but there was a heavy branch pressing against it. Her eyes widened. That's when she noticed that a large portion of the tree was inside the truck.

A branch pinned her legs down. Elena tried to squirm to see if she could free herself but she couldn't move more than a centimeter at a time. Her panic level was beginning to climb, yet she admonished herself to calm down. She could get out of here. All she would have to do was unbuckle her belt, recline the seat and possibly climb out of the shattered back window.

"You can do this," she gave herself a pep talk and tried to squeeze her hand between the tiny space between the seat and the branch. Bark dug into her hand, splinters injected into her flesh, blood seeped out, but Elena didn't retract her hand. She kept burrowing until her fingers bumped into the buckle. She pressed down on the lever and the seatbelt gave away.

Sighing in relief, Elena grabbed the branch that was on her legs and pushed. It didn't move so she tried to lift it. Still nothing happened.

Her panic resurfaced.

Since she couldn't remove the branch, her hands fiddled with the door handle. Unfortunately the door wouldn't open more than an inch.

She was trapped.

Something groaned and the truck buckled. Elena screamed again and wondered if something was pushing on the truck from the outside.

Then to her horror she watched as the branch that exploded through the windshield began to lengthen, stretching, pointing like a finger towards the backseat. She wasn't sure if what she was seeing was real or a figment of her imagination. Elena didn't recall bashing her head on anything as the truck rolled down the embankment. Everything happened so fast it was difficult to say what took place and what didn't. Either the truck was still moving, or the tree was growing _inside _of her vehicle.

That couldn't be possible.

The needles began to fan out. She was hit in the face with sharp pin-like pricks that drew blood. She had to get out of here or otherwise she would look as if she got a facial compliments of Freddy Krueger.

Futilely she yelled, "Help!"

The branch continued to expand, along with the needles, and they were burrowing painfully into her cheek, chin, and her temple. Elena twisted her face away and her left cheek smacked into the cracked, cool window of the door. There was nowhere for her to go.

The air was becoming almost noxious to breathe. A heavy, resin aroma filled the cabin. Elena knew she had to conserve her oxygen or she'd lose consciousness. Taking in sharp breaths, Elena reclined her seat back as far as it could go, which wasn't that far, and wiggled her legs free one at a time. The bark bit into her through her jeans, pinching her mercilessly. She was sure to have welts but vanity wasn't her reason she needed to get out the best way possible. Clearing her feet, all that was left to do was somehow scramble to the back, and get out of the truck.

Just as she turned in her seat, her hair got ensnared and jerked her head back painfully as something sharp pierced her back. Warm blood gushed. She screamed silently, unable to form a sound because the pain was too intense. She clamored to free her hair, pulling at the roots, yanking against the branch that held her prisoner. Several patches of hair were ripped out that made Elena feel like she licked an electrical fence, but she was free enough to scramble to the back. Keep moving she told herself. She could worry about her injuries later.

To her relief, the back passenger door wasn't blocked. With some pushing, Elena managed to get it open far enough for her to slide through the opening. She fell to the ground and crab crawled her way from the truck.

Seeing her truck bent and practically almost wrapped around the tree, she shouldn't have survived, but she did yet again cheating death.

Maybe she was the angel of death incarnate. Everyone else around her died while she continued to live.

Coughing and taking in large gulps of clean air, Elena reached behind her back and gently prodded the area where she had been impaled. It burned when she touched the puncture, which she guesstimated was about the size of a silver dollar. Her hand was coated with blood, but Elena kept her hand there regardless, hoping to stop the flow.

"Oh, my God are you all right?"

Startled Elena looked sharply to her right and saw a girl she vaguely remembered from school. Her first attempt to get to her feet failed and Elena merely crumbled back to the ground. When she tried to do it again, the girl was beside her.

"I am so sorry," the girl sputtered.

Elena looked puzzled. "Why are you apologizing?"

The girl clammed up and instead focused her attention on Elena's injuries. "You have a nasty wound on your back. Stay right there. I have a cell phone in my car."

The girl was off, but then she stopped. Elena had pulled herself up to standing position and then leaned against another tree. Her eyes never left the girl and she wondered if she were looking at the ground or trying to recall something.

Slowly Paige turned around. Her once animated eyes were flat and dull.

Worriedly, Elena clung to the tree. "Hey," she said softly. "Are _you _all right?"

The girl didn't answer her. She merely approached Elena, placing one foot in front of the other. "Everyone loves you, but you don't deserve their love."

Elena's eyebrows mashed together. "What?"

Paige repeated, "Everyone loves you, but you don't deserve their love. You're better off dead."

Cotton, dread, and bile pooled in the bottom of Elena's mouth. Was her Good Samaritan a murderer?

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you should go! I'll be fine. I don't need your help," Elena prayed her voice didn't crack at the end.

Paige stared at the ground and found what she needed. Picking up a large rock, she tested the weight in her hand.

Elena's eyes enlarged and she took off running despite the fact the muscles in her legs felt like they had been turned into mush, nor the fact she was bleeding profusely from her back. No matter how fast she tried to run, it seemed the girl in pursuit of her was faster and then, something hard crashed into the back of her head. Everything was dark before her body hit the ground.

* * *

He had followed her instructions to the letter. He had taken her someplace isolated and told no one of what he was doing. He had compelled Katerina to return to her beloved Bulgaria and to live a quiet life until Bonnie needed her again.

Now he stood in the far corner of a candle-lit bedroom, sans suit jacket, arms folded across his chest. Waiting.

Two hours had passed since Elijah took Bonnie's body out of her coffin and placed her in the backseat of his Lincoln. Two hours of standing on his feet watching and anticipating that moment when her heart started beating and her eyes opened. Elijah had been unsure if Bonnie's reversal spell would work or not. No human could survive in a body with a broken neck. Bonnie had quickly explained that because Katherine is a vampire, her essence would in essence heal and preserve her body. It was a theory, not one Bonnie had any time to test out, but if everything went to hell in a hand basket, she said she would accept her fate and go to the other side to be with other members of her family.

Half a dozen times Elijah warred with himself to call some of the witches and warlocks that were still indebted to him to assist. And half a dozen times he didn't want to put someone else in a position where their lives might be put on an auction block one day.

Bonnie was in a class on her own. Elijah had known that since day one. She carried herself like a dignitary as she faced his brother using magic she knew increased her chances of dying, yet she did so unfailingly. He could only name but a handful of people at her age that would have had the same fortitude and valor to do as Bonnie had done that night, and every night she went against the laws of nature to protect her friends, and still maintain her sanity.

He owed her so much more than his respect. He owed her his service.

Her fingers moved but a fraction. Elijah pushed away from the wall and kept his eyes glued to her body. Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment against her cheeks. She wiggled her toes, moved her head a bit against the goose feather pillow and then slowly, Bonnie's eyes opened.

Nothing was in focus at first. Her vision was blurry but Bonnie blinked until it cleared. She sighed in relief that she could feel the rest of her body. There had been a moment of fear that once she was back in her own vessel, she'd feel nothing. Katherine, in her meditative state had healed the broken bones in her spine, reattached the twisted blood vessels, had restored her body back to its former vitality.

Bonnie sensed she wasn't alone so when she lifted her head off the pillow, amazed she could do so and not feel a hint of pain, a smile formed on her face. It wasn't for him. Yet that didn't stop Elijah from returning the gesture mistaking her happiness as pleasure in seeing him.

He was by her side in an instant, propping her up with an arm that resembled steel. Bonnie tried not to flinch away from his touch, but it wasn't without some difficulty. He was still her enemy, no matter how noble he pretended to be. He had no problems pitting her and her mom's life against Elena's as bait to get the Salvatore's to find some way to stop Esther. Bonnie was inclined to throw him clean through a wall, but for the time being he was her reluctantly ally.

She was going to have a field day with him once she was fully operational.

Elijah propped her up against a stack of pillows and quickly stepped away. Staring down at her dressed in her funeral garb, appearing to be as fragile as a doll, for the first time in a long time he felt self-conscious. He didn't know what the appropriate thing would be to say to her. "Welcome back." "Long time no see." "Please for the love of God don't drive a white oak stake through my heart."

All of it seemed inadequate and a little self-centered. "Is there anything I can get you, Bonnie? I am at your complete disposal."

Disposal. Bonnie liked that word and the way it tasted against her tongue when she mumbled it under her breath. Now that she was sitting, her body was heavier than usual. Her head was pounding and she still got the sense that she wasn't completely _here _in the moment. Almost like a fetus ready to be born but still hadn't traveled down the birth canal.

Her forest green eyes looked up at Elijah, testing his readiness to do as she said when she said it. "I could use a glass of water."

"I have several kinds. Spring, sparkling, imported, domestic…"

Inwardly Bonnie laughed. Yes, her own personal vampire butler. Perhaps she'll get him a little uniform…with tails. He already had the accent.

"Sparkling and can you also bringing me something to eat. I am _starving._"

"Yes, of course I imagine you would considering you haven't eaten in seven weeks. What would you like?"

Bonnie thought for a moment. "I'd like a steak, cooked well done with sautéed onions and a loaded baked potato. I should probably eat soup, but that's what I have a sudden taste for."

"I'll have my chef prepare your meal to your exact specifications."

"No," Bonnie said sharply. "I want _you _to cook it."

Elijah gulped. Bonnie watched as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Do you know how to cook?" she inquired when the silence stretched between them.

Elijah nodded his head. "I have acquired some culinary skills throughout the centuries."

"Good," Bonnie dismissed him with the imperial wave of her hand. "But I'd like my sparkling water now and not with my meal. We are alone here, Elijah, right?"

"Yes."

"And you've told no one that I'm back from the dead?"

"I haven't broken my word, Bonnie. No one knows that you're here…with me. No one knows you're alive."

"Good," Bonnie yawned. "Good, I want to tell them and soon, but there is something I have to take care of first. When you get the chance, I need you to find some way to get my grimoire."

Her list of demands was growing, but Elijah took it all in stride. Besides, what else could he do? "Where did you last have it?"

"It was at my house, but Abby might have taken it and hid it somewhere after my death. It was something we talked about before…that night. If anything was to happen to me and she made it out okay, it was her job to put it someplace safe. Find her, find out where it is, and bring it to me."

"Anything else?"

Bonnie flashed her eyes up at him again to see if he was getting impatient. His face was impassive, revealed nothing.

"I want a report on what everyone is doing. The last time I saw Damon he was getting drunk as a skunk and insulting me and Emily, and Stefan had an unfortunate accident out in the cemetery. Caroline was plotting with your brother to hire a witch to take out the Salvatore's, and Elena was being…well Elena. Playing the innocent little victim and complaining about not having anyone in her life," Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I want to know if Jeremy, Matt, and Tyler are okay."

"I will do all that you require."

_That's a good dog, _Bonnie thought. "If I think of anything else, I'll let you know. I'm hungry, Elijah. Hop to it."

Chapter end.

**A/N: Sorry there wasn't that much Bonnie in this. She will explain later how she switched bodies with Katherine, next chapter. And I realized that I pulled a JP and how she forgets about and/or ignores certain characters in favor of her faves, and completely forgot about Elena and her comeuppance. I really had no idea what to do to her that would seem fitting and non-contrived. So I guess the question remains…is Elena Gilbert dead or alive? I'm not sure when the next update will come, but Bonnie will be stepping into her Boss-like role. Thank you guys for being patient with me. Love you.**


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